Celeste
by Ana Cardic
Summary: Celeste Shimmerstar, class of 02, holder of a Swans Degree, is on her first case: a spoiled, snobby young lady by the name of Cinderella. Not your typical fairy tale!
1. Final Exam

CELESTE  
  
"What is the appropriate mode of transportation for a runaway princess?"  
  
I stared at the question, thinking hard. It could either be a fish... though those were usually used on questing princes... a swan? No... that wasn't it. Not a pumpkin, those were for servants... I bit the end of my quill, and bits of feather came off into my mouth.  
  
"Blasted thing..." I muttered. "I should have gotten some of those dragon- hide pens... That's it!" I quickly filled in the empty line below the test question to read "a dragon".  
  
I was taking my final exams at Godmother Academy. If I passed, I would receive a Swans degree, which would help me get a job as a nice fairy godmother, the sort that helps queens find an enchanted prince for their daughters to marry, helps servants win the hand of the prince, and gives deserving women children, whether of their own, or ones brought by a swan, a flower, a breadbasket, and so on.  
  
"What sort of child should you give a poor couple who long for children, and why?" the next question read. That was easy. I dipped my quill into a small pot of ink, and wrote "A child the size of ones thumb, so he or she will not eat much food, thereby keeping the couple out of bankruptcy."  
  
I glanced down the page. There were five questions left. I filled them all out with relative ease, then set the paper aside. I pulled out a sketchbook and started designing ball gowns until the time allotted for the test was up. I kept the book out of sight, so the teacher wouldn't see, I didn't think she would be pleased if I was doing anything other than idly sitting once my test was done.  
  
"Put your writing utensils down." drawled Madam Snowlake, the teacher. "Why can't she just call them all quills or pens or something?" I thought. It wasn't really a question, however --- Madam Snowlake was a stickler for correctness. "Pass your test papers up to me please." she continued briskly, her bright blue eyes glaring through her sparkly pink rectangular spectacles. Her graying hair was piled on top of her head, and her long pink dress enhanced her slimness.  
  
We passed the papers up. "You are dismissed. You will receive your test scores tomorrow." Madam Snowlake snapped. We left quickly. She always got irritable at the end of a class, and none of us wanted to deal with her when she was irritable. 


	2. Mrs Pearl

I had passed! My graduation ceremony was over, I had my Swans degree, and my wand. I was going to work in the school's Experience Program. This was an agency for the less fortunate (servants, etc.). I would receive an assignment, and make the best of it. If and when I got to the "happily ever after" part, I would receive an award, which, aside from looking important, would be useful in getting me a job at one of the more well-to-do wish agencies. I didn't want to end up working for an agency like the one with Mr. Stiltskin as the head... he was a fairly nice man, and very talented, but his people skills and tact were... lacking. I signed up with him, and my career could possibly go down the drain.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"New recruit, are you?" asked the bony looking woman behind a large wooden desk.  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Celeste Shimmerstar is my name. I'm to be working under Mrs. Pearl."  
  
"Mmm-hmmm." the woman pursed her lips, and stared into the computer screen in front of her. "Yes. You are to be meeting with her at 11:00."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That is in five minutes."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Have a seat over there, I'll let you know when she's ready to see you." the woman frowned at me, as if I were infringing on her time by showing up five minutes early.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Hmph." she sniffed.  
  
I went and sat down in a soft purple armchair by a large bay window. Copies of "Godmother Academy News" and "The Godfather Magazine", and a book entitled "Pretty in Pink: Attractive Outfits for the Godmother on the Go" were laying on a small polished table. I picked up the last and started flipping through it.  
  
"Ms. Shimmerstar!" snapped the receptionist.  
  
"Yes?" I looked up from the book, which was open to a page entirely devoted to diamond accessories.  
  
"Mrs. Pearl is ready to see you. Go through the door on my left."  
  
I set the book back on the table, and stood up. "Thank you."  
  
She didn't reply.  
  
I walked to the door and pushed it open. I was in a cloud of purple. Dark purple chairs, light gauzy purple curtains, shiny purple desk, even the plump woman behind the desk was all dressed in what was apparently her favorite color.  
  
"Hello." I said, closing the door behind me and walking over to the desk.  
  
"Hello, Miss Shimmerstar. Have a seat." the woman gestured to the cushiony chair beside me.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She looked surprised. "Why thank me? Did you really think I would make you stand throughout the whole interview?"  
  
I smiled slightly.  
  
"Or were you just being polite?" Mrs. Pearl asked with a twinkle in her eye.  
  
"What you said." I grinned and sat down.  
  
"So, tell me a bit about yourself." she commanded, once I was properly seated.  
  
"Well, as you know, my name is Celeste Shimmerstar, and I just received my Swans degree from Godmother Academy. I'm 23 years old, and... well, that's about it."  
  
"Hmmm." she stared at me for a moment. "I like you." she announced suddenly. "You'll make a good godmother."  
  
"Thank you." I said, taken aback.  
  
"You like that phrase, don't you?" Mrs. Pearl asked with a teasing note in her voice. I didn't know what to say. "Of course you do. That's all right."  
  
I liked Mrs. Pearl too. I was expecting someone like Madam Snowlake, or the receptionist at the desk. As if she had read my thoughts, Mrs. Pearl suddenly glanced at the door. "You'll have to excuse Mrs. Dragonsnap there. She's always like that." I knew what she meant by "like that". If you spent five minutes in a room with her you'd know. I smiled.  
  
"So." she said briskly. "We already have a subject picked out for you. It's one of the more uniform, but challenging, situations. There is a girl named Cinderella ---awful name, isn't it? I have no idea where they got that one. Can you imagine having the word "Cinder" in your name? Then again, my niece is named Ashley, and that has the word "ash" in it. Though that could be a reference to the tree... anyways, I'm getting carried away. Sorry."  
  
I hid a smile.  
  
"Anyways, Cinderella's mother died when she was a baby. Her father remarried about a year ago, to a woman with two daughters. That in itself is a recipe for disaster, at least if you're judging from history. Or personal experience." she added. "The father died about a month ago, and it turns out he'd lost all his money by doing something foolish with his business. So now the family has to work for a living, and the poor girl isn't liking that at all. Neither, come to think of it, are the stepfamily."  
  
"They've made this Cinderella a servant, I presume? That's the usual case, isn't it."  
  
"Correct. And the girl is having rather a hard time of it. She wished that she could get out of her mess while looking at a royal coach." she sighed. "You know what that means."  
  
I nodded. "She has to marry a royal."  
  
"Correct again. The prince of her kingdom, no less, as he was in the coach when she wished. I do wish they would watch where they wish, princes are always so hard to work with. They're either very clever or very thick, and never easy to manipulate."  
  
I nodded, biting my lower lip. This was going to be a difficult job.  
  
"Luckily, however, that prince is unmarried and unbetrothed, which will make our job so much easier. Betrothed are the worst. There usually ends up being a great big war if the prince says he doesn't want to marry the princess of wherever, the princess's father always takes offense."  
  
"I know." I sighed "We had an entire class devoted to breaking off engagements."  
  
"I know. I had to take it when I was in school. Awful thing, it was." she shook her head.  
  
"So where does this Cinderella live?" I asked.  
  
"About a mile east of Lillie Lake. It's the only house for a couple miles."  
  
"That shouldn't be too hard to find. I think I might have seen it before. A big stone house, ivy crawling up the walls?"  
  
"That's the one."  
  
"Good. When do I start?"  
  
"Tomorrow. Show up here at 9:00 a.m., and I'll give you all the necessary papers. Also, here is a basic summary of the situation for you to review." She handed me a couple of papers stapled together. I noticed, not feeling too surprised, that they were light purple.  
  
"Thank you." I said, standing up.  
  
She stood also, and looked at me closely.  
  
"What?" I asked, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.  
  
She shrugged. "Nothing. You just really like that phrase, don't you? That's not necessarily a bad thing." she added.  
  
I liked her. She was odd, but I liked her. 


	3. Cinderella and the Stepsisters

There was the house. It would have looked very cold and stern, were it not for the ivy growing all over the front and one side of it, and the colorful tulips that bordered the walkway.  
  
I stood outside the large stone gate, watching the house. No one seemed to be home. No, someone was home, they were opening the front door. I waved my wand over myself, muttered *Ivisaleo* and suddenly I didn't seem to be there, at least not physically. I was, of course, invisible.  
  
A girl, about fifteen years old, was coming out of the house. My, she was a beauty. Big blue eyes, flawless skin, ringlets cascading down her back, and peeking out from the handkerchief she had tied around her hair. Her mouth was drawn in a perfect pout. She was holding a large wooden bucket.  
  
She walked slowly to the well that was on the side of the house. *Idiots.* I thought. *Running water is available, why don't you use it?* I could answer that question: tradition. *Traditional dingbats.*  
  
I realized I was thinking badly of my first client... oops. That wasn't going to help me.  
  
The girl was attaching the bucket to a rope. She dropped it down, waited a moment, then started tugging on the rope, straining for all she was worth. This one wasn't too strong, it was obvious that the rope was a LittleWeight product, there was their logo every couple of inches along it.  
  
The front door opened again. A girl about the age of the blonde beauty poked her head out. Her hair was a reddish brown, and freckles dotted her nose.  
  
"Cinderella!" she yelled. "Hurry up with that water! I can't make dinner without it." she waited for a response. There was none. "HURRY!" she yelled. "I have to go get the bread, it's burning."  
  
"I'm coming." sighed Cinderella, in a long-suffering voice.  
  
"'Thanks." the head disappeared.  
  
Cinderella pulled the bucket up the rest of the way with ease. She had as much strength as the next girl, she had been stalling. Just great. She was obviously spoiled. Great, just great.  
  
She hobbled back to the house, opened the door... she was gone. Time for a little more in-depth work. I waved my wand over my back, and gently kicked off from the ground. The sparkly pastel wings (or at least they would be sparkly pastel if you could see them) attached to my dress started to flutter. They actually didn't do a thing to help me fly, but I wore them anyways because fairy godmothers make a better impression when they have wings.  
  
I flew over to the nearest window, into what looked like the dining room. Nothing in there. The next room was the kitchen. Cinderella and her stepsister were both inside, the stepsister making what I hoped was soup, a couple loaves of burnt bread on the table beside her. Cinderella had set the bucket on the table also, and was now talking to her stepsister.  
  
I pulled out a microscopic Xtra-Ear device, which was enchanted to let me hear through walls, glass, stone, etc. I slipped the beige device in my ear.  
  
"That soup looks terrible." Cinderella was saying. "And the bread is horrendous. It looks like it fell into a firepot. I'll bet it's hard as a rock, too."  
  
"Cinderella, please go away." the stepsister sighed resignedly, as though she had no hopes of her wishes being granted.  
  
"No, Anya. You can't order me around!" snapped Cinderella. "Your *mother* does enough of that!" "Stop talking like that about Mother!" snapped the girl, a flush rising to her cheeks. "You're just sore because you can't have your own personal maid anymore, and you have to do these absolutely..." she searched for the right word "these... *miniscule ... chores!"  
  
"I'm doing twice what you do!"  
  
"Yes, today you've fetched the water, and halfway swept the entrance hall. *Before you got up* I had made breakfast, straightened my room, dusted the dining room, swept the fireplace, and watered the vegetable garden. After you woke up I weeded the tulips, cleared the table, did the dishes, mended your party dress, and fed the chickens. Now I am making lunch, and it is NOT helping that you took so long to get the water that half the vegetables got scorched because there wasn't enough water in the pot! And you also made me burn the bread, because I had to get you to move faster than a slug!!!" Anya yelled. "Now GET OUT!"  
  
"You are indeed a cruel girl." said Cinderella in a very haughty-snobby voice. It sounded very rehearsed. She stalked out.  
  
An angry tear made it's way down Anya's nose. She wiped it away impatiently with her apron. I wanted to stay and watch her --- I was beginning to like her more than my client. I almost wished I had been assigned to help her, she needed it more than Cinderella. But stepfamilies never seemed to get any help.  
  
I flew over to the next window, hovering slightly. It seemed to be a parlor, a rich rug lay on the floor, there were a couple of straight-backed chairs by the fire, and a highly polished piano stood on the opposite wall. This must have been from before the father lost his money; everything looked *rich*. Cinderella was sitting on one of the chairs, embroidering silver thread onto what looked like a green silk coin purse. She was humming softly to herself. Her voice was typical of her beauty: sweet, ladylike, and perfect.  
  
The door creaked open. A girl who seemed to be a year or two older than Cinderella, maybe 17, looked in, saw the silver needle and thread flashing, and walked briskly over to the chair. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant green gown, and her black hair was piled artistically on her head.  
  
"Cinderella, *what* are you doing?" the girl demanded.  
  
"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with." said Cinderella airily, not looking up from her needlework.  
  
"Nothing I need to be concerned about, indeed!" scoffed the girl. "Except for the fact that you are using Mother's finest and most expensive thread, which she bought for the sole purpose of embroidering the gown she is making for Baroness Relina, and she has expressly told you not to touch. And that you are embroidering on my new coin purse, which I bought from my own wages."  
  
"This purse ought to be mine. I did some of your chores yesterday, this is my payment." replied Cinderella with an unconcerned air.  
  
"That is *not* your payment! And what exactly am I paying you for? I don't you recall doing *any* chores yesterday."  
  
"I fed the chickens for you." said Cinderella primly.  
  
"You spilled the feed all over the place. The chickens got fed, certainly. Half of them got nearly bloated, for heavens sake, and I had to go clean up what they didn't eat because you said it was 'too messy', if I recall correctly." the girl said with a touch of exasperation in her voice.  
  
"The fact remains that I fed the chickens for you. It wasn't my fault that the feed spilled. one of the hens pecked at me, and I was startled." said Cinderella. "Not to mention injured."  
  
"I don't care. Give me my purse." said the girl.  
  
"No."  
  
"Now." the girl held out her hand. There was a warning glint in her eye.  
  
"No. You can't make me."  
  
The girl sighed. "I wish I didn't have to do this." She snapped her fingers and held out her hand. The purse flew to it, along with the needle and thread. I was impressed. It takes quite a bit of practice to do unaided magic, even something simple like what she had just done.  
  
"How dare you!" exclaimed Cinderella.  
  
"How dare *you*." the girl corrected calmly. She held her hand out over the purse, which was lying embroidered side up on her palm. The thread glinted, then flew out of the silk, and wound itself back onto the spool of silver floss.  
  
"All my hard work, ruined!" said Cinderella dramatically. "Sylvia, you have destroyed my self-esteem!" "Sorry about that." said Sylvia, looking amused. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the laughter that was threatening to burst out of me. "I won't have to do it again if you will use your own things from now on." She turned around and swept to the door, taking the purse and thread with her.  
  
"Cruel sorceress!" exclaimed Cinderella.  
  
"I'm a sorceress in training. And I'm one of the nice ones that questing princes ask directions and assistance from." Sylvia replied over her shoulder.  
  
Cinderella scowled. 


	4. Sort of a Plot

So, I had seen the stepsisters, where was the stepmother? I flew from window to window, trying to find her. I really needed to get a searching device. This was a big house, and who knew how many big houses I'd have to search through during my lifetime?  
  
Bedroom... bedroom... bathroom... storage room... another bedroom. This was a big house. Sitting room... yes! That had to be the "evil stepmother". But she didn't look evil. Soft chestnut curls peeked out of an embroidered handkerchief tied around her hair. Her eyes were big and brown, framed by long black lashes. She was beautiful, but not evil-stepmother-stunning. I liked her. That was bad. She was supposed to be an enemy, as were her two daughters. But I liked them all... in fact, the only one I didn't like was my client.  
  
That was very bad.  
  
She was sewing in a padded wooden rocking chair, her long black dress grazing the ground gently as it moved. Her dress was mourning black, not the evil stepmother black that was one of the trademarks of evil stepmothers (the ones who liked to either eat their stepchildren, kidnap them, or sell them as slaves). She smiled softly as she sewed, lost in thought.  
  
There was a soft knocking at the door.  
  
"Come in." said the stepmother. Her voice was strong, but soft, and sweet as honey.  
  
Anya came inside, and closed to door behind her.  
  
"Hello, dear." said the Stepmother. "What's wrong, you look upset about something."  
  
"The usual." Anya replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Cinderella."  
  
"What was she doing now?" the Stepmother asked resignedly.  
  
"Stalling while bringing in the water, it's too hard for her poor aching back." she said sarcastically. "Two, talking badly about you, and three, being a general spoilt brat."  
  
"I know she's hard. I know she won't work, I know she talks badly about everybody, me in particular, and I know she's hard to get along with. But we all need to try to get along with her better. Even make friends with her, if we can."  
  
Anya snorted.  
  
"I know she's never liked any of us. What can you expect? She was very rich, happily living with her father, then we came along. Thomas and I fell in love and got married. Suddenly she was no longer the sole object of her father's attention, and that must have been very hard for her. Then Thomas died ---" her voice broke a little "--- and she, of course, had a difficult time with that. Not to mention her name... that's none of my business." she reprimanded herself. "Though you have to admit it is an odd one."  
  
"But what are we going to do about her?" Anya asked.  
  
"Just live with her. She's almost sixteen, she'll move out eventually. She'll probably get married soon, actually, if she can find a man worthy of her." the stepmother said. "Or her beauty." she added thoughtfully. "I don't think there's a man on the face of the earth worthy of her. Except a prince, maybe, and I doubt she'll get to marry one of those." Anya sighed.  
  
"Someone rich enough for her, then." said Sylvia from the doorway where she had just appeared. "Money is worthy of her."  
  
"How do you do that?" asked Anya. "Appear so quietly?"  
  
"It's one of the things Sorceress Gildiana taught me. She's a very good teacher."  
  
"Can she teach you how to get a snobby golden-headed beautiful maiden out of our lives?"  
  
"Anya!" said her mother, sounding shocked.  
  
"Sorry. But I'm going to go crazy if she doesn't... oh, I don't know... go away! I can't stand her!" Anya said, sounding very frustrated. "I don't understand how you two can always keep your cool with her, I can't!"  
  
"Could it have something to do with the fact that you were born impatient, and haven't changed a bit since then?" Sylvia asked innocently.  
  
"Oh, you be quiet." Anya said. She was grinning.  
  
"Just put up with her, I'll see if I can get ahold of a fairy godmother agency and see if I can get her a godmother. Maybe that way she'll be able to find a true love or true happiness away from here." said the stepmother.  
  
"And if that doesn't work we can stick her in an enchanted palace or something so she has to break the spell and marry the prince or enchanter who lives there." said Sylvia. "I heard of one about a days travel from here, there's a prince enchanted to become a Beast. The spell can only be broken if the girl learns to love him... she could be gone for quite a while."  
  
"No." said Anya mournfully. "She'd get rescued by some questing hero."  
  
"You're probably right." Sylvia agreed. "We'll go with Mother's plan, and if that doesn't work... well, we'll just have to marry her off."  
  
The Stepmother laughed and shook her head. "You know, if someone were to hear us, they'd probably think we were trying to do her in. You know, the 'evil stepfamily.'"  
  
She was wrong. I was absolutely and completely on their side. 


	5. It's Perfectly Normal, Dang It

Sorry this is so short... I haven't had a lot of writing time lately. After Christmas, I should be posting regularly.  
  
  
  
"May I please see Mrs. Pearl as soon as possible?" I asked Mrs. Dragonsnap.  
  
"Fine. Have a seat." she snapped. I smiled a little, then took a seat. Today on the coffee table was a novel that someone had left behind, titled "The Wish That Went Wrong" by Gypsophelia Jarrin, and a copy of the previous month's "Wish List" magazine. I flipped through it until Mrs. Dragonsnap told me I could go see Mrs. Pearl.  
  
I went into her office and sat down on the chair.  
  
"Good morning!" he said brightly.  
  
"Good morning, I have a major problem and I have no idea what to do about it, I detest my client." I announced.  
  
"Oh dear, I've heard this one before." she remarked, half to herself.  
  
"What do I do? I didn't learn about anything like this at the college!"  
  
"They always do seem to leave out the most important things, don't they? Terrible clients, giants that don't like the way Englishmen taste... you sort of have to learn about these by experience" she remarked.  
  
"Well, you've had a lot of experience. What do I do?" I demanded.  
  
"Work through it. You'll come up with something." She peered at me. "Yes, you'll come up with something. My advice for coming up with it is to finish your assigned job first. That will pretty much take care of the basic idea, that being to get Cinderella married to the prince, then you may tweak the project all you wish."  
  
I sighed. "All right. But I have a confession to make."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I like the stepfamily. They don't exactly qualify for an "evil" rating. More like incredibly patient." I groaned. "How bad is that?"  
  
Mrs. Pearl laughed. "Not bad at all. It's perfectly normal. You see, we rate the 'victims' by how desperate and miserable they are when they make their wish. As you can see, the system isn't perfect. Cinderella got an 8.3 out of 10. She's miserable, all right, or at least she was when she made the wish."  
  
"Knowing her, she was miserable because she didn't have a carriage as fine as the prince does." I muttered under my breath. Mrs. Pearl heard and laughed again.  
  
"It's a possibility." she admitted. "We really ought to change the system, but it's quick and easy, and MOST of the time, we get pretty close."  
  
I sighed. "All right, then. I'm off to plan a wedding."  
  
"That's the spirit." Mrs. Pearl said, and patted my arm as I stood to leave. 


	6. The Prince's Palace,Blasted Skirt, and a...

My next stop would be the prince's palace. I supposed I had to find out about him, although I almost didn't want to. I didn't want to set him up with Cinderella, I didn't want to be that cruel. But I had a job to do, and moreover, if I got Cinderella married off, that would free the stepfamily of her. But the poor prince... I went to the castle right after I finished talking to Mrs. Pearl. The sooner this job was done, the better. Being a fairy godmother wasn't exactly what I had expected.  
  
I arrived at the gilded front gates. "Why on earth do they gild the FRONT GATES?" I muttered to myself. It's a wonderful idea, at least if you want every single person who lives within a mile to come over at night and chip bits of gold off of them. Though perhaps they wouldn't, there should be guards somewhere. But no. I looked around them, expecting to see something of security. But there was no one. How odd.  
  
"Invisaleo!" I muttered, waving my wand over myself. I vanished. No, my wand was still there, hanging in midair. I tapped it a couple of times, and it disappeared. I flew over the gates and onto the sweeping lawns. The palace was immense and shining, the walls a rich cream color. The windows had gilded panes and sills, and the front doors were light brown wood, carvings around the edges. I couldn't see the design --- I was too far away. I was about to start flying around the castle to look in the windows when I heard laughter coming from the back lawns. I flew around to where it was coming from.  
  
There was a lawn party or something of the sort going on back here. There were about 20 or so people, laughing and chatting around white tables. The women were in sweeping pastel gowns, the men in lightly colored outfits. One of the men, who could only be the prince, was wearing a white suit with a golden scabbard at his waist, and gold tasseled pads on his shoulders. He was very handsome, with shining golden hair and bright blue eyes that could be seen from the distance I was at, which is to say about 25 feet.  
  
He was talking to an old man in a lavender suit, with silver braid down the front and on the collar and cuffs. His hair, which was surprisingly thick for his age, was a shining silver. These people seemed to like their hair and trimming to match.  
  
I flew closer to eavesdrop on their conversation. "That is one huge advantage to being a fairy godmother" I thought. "Nobody objects too loudly if you're nosy."  
  
The old man was speaking in a wheezy voice, that somehow remained somewhere between being the voice of someone very distinguished and the voice of an arrogant stuffed shirt.  
  
"Your Highness" he said. "Surely you understand the importance... your kingdom depends... you must have heirs... I mean, after all..." he trailed off.  
  
"I understand fully that I must have heirs. And I understand that I must marry someone to produce those heirs." the prince said in a pompous voice. It was very fitting to his gaudy appearance. "However, I cannot marry just anyone. It must be either a princess, or the fairest lady in my country!" he declared.  
  
"Sire, you must marry one of royalty, not just the fairest lady in your land." the old man protested.  
  
"I shall make her a princess." the prince said impatiently, brushing a speck of imaginary dust off his gleaming uniform.  
  
"Very well." sighed the old man resignedly. "But you must find her soon! You are almost twenty-two, you'll need a wife before you get much older. I would suggest that you at least have a chosen bride by the end of the year." he nodded wisely.  
  
"They sound as if they're discussing a business affair." I thought, feeling a little miffed. Then I realized that for me, this WAS a business affair. I shook my head slightly and flew closer.  
  
"So how do you plan on finding this perfect princess?" the old man asked.  
  
"Ferdinand, I have no idea." said the prince airily. "Might I ask you to come up with a suggestion?"  
  
"You may indeed, though I cannot promise you I will come up with a worthwhile suggestion. I am your counselor, not a matchmaker."  
  
"I understand. You may wish to look into a magical match-making society, I believe there is a very good one a couple hours drive from here. You could send a messenger dove to it, and see if they can help us."  
  
"I will, sir."  
  
Their conversation lagged off to the care of the palace's horses, and I slipped away. Maybe they wouldn't need to contact that matchmaking agency -- - I could help with this one.  
  
I flew around the palace, looking for an open door or window. I found a kitchen door open, and tried to slip through to the main castle without being noticed. It was difficult --- the kitchen was full to bursting with cooks, scullery maids, kitchen boys, and other servants who seemed to have no job to do in there other than get underfoot. I flew to the ceiling, which was rather low, and tried not to bump into anyone, and not let my skirts fall into anybody's face. Why I had chosen to wear the flowing, fluffy dress I had on, I had no idea, but it was not working to my advantage.  
  
I somehow managed to get to the end of the room without anyone noticing, and had little trouble getting through the door that led into a large serving hall, as it was always swinging open and shut. I was safely in the serving hall, which was thankfully less crowded than the kitchen. However, there still were people in the hall, waiting to serve whoever was in the small little dining room. There was a door which appeared to lead to the entrance hall, but I couldn't open it without anyone noticing, and that might cause a disturbance which I hoped to avoid.  
  
I flew over to the what I hoped was the entrance hall door, and hovered near the top, hoping someone would come and open it soon. Scientists at Godmother Researcher International had been attempting to create an Anti-Solidifier for years, but no luck so far. So I couldn't go through this door, and though people were continually coming through the kitchen door, none seemed to want to go into the main entrance. I hovered for about fifteen minutes or so, then slowly dropped towards the ground. I didn't want to put too much wear on my wings.  
  
Finally, after another half hour, a small boy came running through the kitchen door, sped towards me, and threw himself at the door handle.  
  
"Geoffrey!" snapped a skinny young man in a blue suit. He was standing my the dining room entrance, holding a small gold platter heaped with something that resembled an expensive pastry.  
  
"Huh?" asked the boy, spinning around, the door half open, his hand still on the handle.  
  
"Geoffrey, where are you going?" the man demanded. I resisted an urge to laugh at the pompous expression that had spread across his face.  
  
"I'm taking this to the new horse." the boy --- Geoffrey --- said, looking annoyed. "You know, the one Sir Whats-his-face brought back from that quest or something of his to the market."  
  
"Geoffrey, that is an inexcusable lack of respect! Sir Whats-his-name, indeed! Sir PEATERR!!!"  
  
"Yeah, the one who can't spell." answered the boy, a little too innocently. "He's not great shakes at riding a horse either... and his arithmetic skills! Really, I could do better! I DO do better." he added smugly. "And my name is Geff, Sam." Geff gave the man a skeptical look. "And you should know that. You've been my brother for ten years."  
  
"I know your name, and that name is Geoffrey!" said Geff's brother, sounding annoyed. "And my name is SAMUEL!"  
  
"Oh, sorry." said Geff. I didn't think he really meant it. "Anyways, bye." He made to leave.  
  
"Excuse me, young man!" said Samuel arrogantly. "Have you asked PERMISSION to leave your work station?"  
  
Geff looked at Samuel as if he were a chicken demanding equal rights. "Um, Sam, I don't work here, I'm an errands boy. And no one in the kitchen need any help, so I'm free to go wherever I want. And our dearest mother knows where I'm going to, and she didn't raise any hullabaloo over it." Geff gave a great big sigh. "So, if you're finished with the 'big-brotherly concern', I'll be on my way."  
  
He swung open the door and darted through, before his brother could say a thing. And I, amazingly, managed to get through without doing anything of lasting damage to that ridiculous skirt of mine. 


	7. Whatever Shall I Do?

Geoffrey dashed across the sparkling marble floor and threw open a small door a bit to the left of the big golden front ones. I caught a glimpse of sky, a bit of green, then the door was shut again. I grinned. I liked that imp.  
  
I flew up the white marble stairs, and paused on the landing. There was one hall leading straight ahead, and two balconies on either side of the hall downstairs, lined with doors. highly polished lightly colored wood, with golden handles, they all looked the same. And they were all closed.  
  
"That's all right." I thought, glancing down the hall in front of me. "The prince's bedchamber won't be there." I had to find his bedroom... but that could take days, this palace was immense. I had better start looking, now.  
  
I flew down the main hall, passing a couple of chattering servants. The prince's bedroom would most likely be in a tower. So I had to look for stairs... but there were too many staircases, wide sweeping arcs going up one way, a gilded spiral staircase over there, a short flight throughout that door... there was no way I could find the right tower within a reasonable period of time.  
  
I landed softly on a cream and gold carpet, and slipped inside a slightly open door. It seemed to be an unused parlor. I closed the door and ducked into a shadowy corner.  
  
"Aparro" I muttered. I appeared, apparently out of thin air. I reached into my sash, a thick pink thing, made out of satin ribbon, and pulled out a small light blue book. My smooth sash had looked as though it couldn't contain ANYTHING, let alone a small book, without it at least making a lump. But I in actuality had an apple, a small scroll of blank paper, a quill and bottle of purple ink, and my Fairy Godmother in Training certificate, in case I needed proof that I was snooping around with good cause, were I --- heaven forbid --- caught. It was one of the major advantages to godmother magic, we were excellent at storing things.  
  
The flowery gold writing on the cover read "Whatever Shall I Do?: A Fairy Godmother's Guide to Handling Difficult Situations". It was a most useful book, containing instructions on how to handle almost any situation one might run into on the job, from betrothed royals who hate each other to removing spell remains from your dress. I flipped it open, and searched through the index, looking for "locating" or something of the sort.  
  
"Location --- changing" No.  
  
"Location --- creating" No, might be useful, but I would prefer the location the prince already uses.  
  
"Location --- finding" Yes. Page 113.  
  
I flipped to page 113, and read:  
  
"When one is in a predicament in which one must find a specific location that is unknown to one, one's best chance of finding desired location would be to use a patented Searcher. Directions should come with one of these useful devices, however, if not, one is usually safe with setting the device to "location" then entering the proper name of the desired location and any information about the whereabouts of said location.  
  
"If one is unable to procure a Searcher one's choices may be more time- consuming and difficult, however it is almost always possible for one to find the desired location within a reasonable amount of time and a reasonable amount of energy.  
  
"If it is possible, one should disguise oneself to resemble the majority of the people who would know the location of the location which one desires to find, and attempt to get a person to reveal the location."  
  
I skimmed the rest of the category. A disguise would probably work best in my case. I should have thought of it before. I could disguise myself as a palace servant, pretend I'm new, and ask for directions to the prince's quarters as if I'm on an errand.  
  
I slipped the book back inside my sash, where it appeared to dissolve or disappear. The satin was undisturbed, still shiny and smooth as ever.  
  
I waved my wand over myself, picturing the servants clothing I had seen in the kitchen and hall. Sparkles surrounded me, and I was suddenly dressed in a servant's white uniform. I brushed a few off of my shoulder and skirt, and tapped my wand three times. It disappeared, and I slipped it into my blouse.  
  
I pushed a few strands of my honey-colored hair out of my face, and slipped back across the room and into the hall.  
  
"Let's hope this works." I muttered. 


	8. Mission Accomplished, at least for now

I set off down the hall, my shoes clacking on the marble floor. I passed a couple of maids, who were standing in a cluster giggling. They didn't look as though they could help me however, so I kept going. I passed maybe twenty-five doors or so, some open, some closed. The open rooms were magnificent, most of them very large. Not surprisingly, the main color theme was the whites and golds that coated the rest of the palace.  
  
I saw a boy, about ten or so, dressed in a white and gold uniform up ahead. He was carrying a pile of towels. I ran to catch up with him.  
  
"Excuse me!" I called. He turned around.  
  
"Can you give me the directions to the prince's chambers?" I asked. "I can't find it."  
  
"Down to the end of this hall there's a flight of stairs. Go up them and then through the first door on your left, his chambers are inside there."  
  
"Thank you." I said. He nodded, gave me a small smile and went through a small arched door on his left. I proceeded down the hall until I came to the stairs. Fitting in with the rest of the castle, they were large, sweeping, and painted gold. I went up them, and went to the first door I came to on the left. None of the doors on this floor were white, at least as far as I could see. they were all gold, and the one I stood in front of had an intricate carving of a crown on it, studded with real pearls, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and other gems.  
  
I hesitantly pushed it open and stepped into an immaculate parlor of sorts, with two large white sofas, crystal chandeliers, and carpeted in fluffy white. The walls were wallpapered, a white background with gold swirls. It was rather modern, but still fit in with the rest of the palace.  
  
There were two doors on both the left and right walls, the one opposite the entrance had no doors, but a large cushioned window seat by a large bay window, overlooking the vast lawns and forests beyond. Large curtains were drawn up on either side.  
  
I pulled out my wand and flicked it at the coffee table in between the sofas. A pile of white bedding --- gold trimmed, of course --- appeared. Just in case anybody came in, I had better have a good excuse for being in here. I tucked my wand away, then went over to the first door on the left and pushed it open. An office.  
  
I closed that door and opened the next. A bathroom... nearly all white marble. The door straight across from it appeared to be a small dining area. And finally, the last door was the bedroom.  
  
In the middle of the room was a huge golden canopied bed. The curtains were white, as were the bedspreads. A tiny set of stairs stood against one side of the bed, so the prince could climb into it. Without them, it would be quite a jump.  
  
"I wouldn't fancy falling off that." I thought to myself. Though perhaps it wouldn't be too painful... there was a fluffy white carpet in here, just as in the front room. The carpet itself looked softer than my bed at home. There was a small bedside table on either side of the bed. The carved wooden legs that held them up were very long, so the tabletops were accessible from the bed. The one on the right had a small white lamp on it. I flew up onto the bed beside it. Thankfully, as I was in a servants costume, I didn't have to bother with turning on my wings. I never would turn them on, but they tended to get squeaky if they didn't feel useful. Temperamental things.  
  
I pulled the parchment, quill, and bottle of purple ink out of my waistband, where they had re-located themselves after my slight transformation, then took out a piece of paper and uncapped the ink, dipped in my quill and began to write.  
  
"Dear Prince"  
  
I paused, my quill hovering above the page. I hadn't heard his name. There were so many princes around these parts, one never bothered to keep track of them. I glanced around the room, and spotted a luxurious looking white bathrobe hanging on a hook. Embroidered on the front were the words "His Royal Highness Prince Charming of Arpathia". I stifled a laugh. Prince CHARMING? Honestly, you would think his parents could have done better than that. But I added the name to my greeting.  
  
"It has come to my attention that you wish to find a wife worthy of holding the name of princess, and someday queen. I would suggest you find this perfect damsel by holding a royal ball, inviting all the ladies in your land and princesses of any nearby countries. You may survey the ladies at will, and select a bride from among them."  
  
I dipped the quill again, and signed "A Friend", then brushed the tip of the feather across the two words, making them sparkle animatedly. This was to let the prince know that the letter was from a magical source... he may be more willing to accept the idea if he knew it was from someone who either knew what they were talking about, or were going to curse him if he didn't use their suggestion. A couple of the free-lance fairies were like that. Take Millicent, for example. Wasn't invited to a christening and threw a huge fit. She now claims she did it so the princess she cursed would get to wed her true love, even though he wouldn't be born for nearly 100 years. Really.  
  
I blew on the piece of paper to let it dry. The signature still sparkled. I folded the paper into thirds and wrote "Prince Charming" on the outside, then propped it against the lamp so he would notice it. After tucking the ink, quill, and paper back inside my waistband, and magically getting rid of the bedclothes that still sat on the coffee table, I took out my wand, changed back into my regular clothes, and unlatched the window. I sailed out of it (remembering to switch on my wings), and it closed and latched itself behind me.  
  
"Mission accomplished!" 


	9. Month Old Ball Gowns, Scandalous!

Now I just had to wait and hope my idea worked. I set up a little moniter at the palace, which would load itself on to my computer regularly, and give me the prince's schedule and any major plans for the coming year. As a fairy godmother, I was allowed access to that sort of thing. If a royal ball appeared somewhere, I would know I could safely move onto the next part of my plan.  
  
Two days after my venture to the palace, I checked on Cinderella and her step-relatives. I found all as usual: Cinderella a terribly abused young lady, the stepmother (whose name, as I had found out from my case papers, was Lydia Fleur) was patient and unruffled, Sylvia calm and amused, and Anya thoroughly annoyed. I tried to do what I could for the family. While they were out I came and weeded their garden and fed some of the animals, another day I had all the potatoes scrubbed and washed, ready to be cooked when they got home. I did this through the window with my wand, it wouldn't do for them to come home and see a fairy sitting there peeling vegetables, especially as I didn't want them to know I was in any way involved with their case. Not yet, anyways.  
  
Finally, about a week later, I got onto my computer one morning, and lo and behold, the prince was planning a royal ball. The invitations would be sent out at once. Ususally there were three months or so to plan for such a large occasion as this was going to be. But perhaps he didn't want to anger his magical "Friend". No matter. Once the invitations were sent out I could safely proceed to the next part of my plan.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Sylvia, would you please get me my thread basket?" Lydia Fleur asked her daughter.  
  
Sylvia snapped her finger, and the basket flew towards her. She flicked her finger in her mother's direction, and the basket flew over and settled in Lydia's lap.  
  
"That's quite impressive, dear. Sorceress Gildiana said you were a natural when you began, and believe she's right."  
  
I was impressed too. For one as young as Sylvia, this was very advanced. I hovered outside the window of Mrs. Fleur's parlor, where she and her two daughters and stepdaughter were sewing and chatting. I was checking on their current situation, and putting some finishing touches on my plans.  
  
"I enjoy it. And my skills come in handy." Sylvia nodded towards the basket, a wisp of black hair falling out of the twist at the back of her head. She brushed it behind her ear.  
  
"I don't think proper young ladies ought to be learning such things." sniffed Cinderella.  
  
"Cindy, be quiet." Anya said absentmindedly, her tongue between her teeth as she attempted to thread a needle.  
  
"My name is not Cindy, you ignorant child." said Cinderella in an superior way. "It is Cinderella."  
  
"Why do you get so annoyed when I call you 'Cindy'?" asked Anya, looking up from her needle. "It's no worse than CINDERella. That's like calling you soot or something."  
  
"How dare you mock me!" said Cinderella in an aggrieved tone.  
  
"Girls, please." sighed Lydia. "We've been over this before. Cinderella is a beautiful name, and I completely understand why you would want to be called by your full name. Anya, there is no reason for you to call her 'Cindy' or anything else, nor point out any faults that you may happen to find in her name."  
  
"Hmph." Cinderella sniffed in a satisfied way.  
  
"And there is also no reason for you to act rudely to Anya when she does call you something other than your given name." said Lydia sharply to Cinderella.  
  
"Not to mention if you're going to call me something, you might as well come up with something better than "you ignorant child". I'm only a year younger than you, and I'm smarter."  
  
"I doubt that." said Cinderella.  
  
"That's because you don't know any better." said Anya comfortingly. Sylvia bit her lip and turned back to her mending to hide her smile. Cinderella apparently couldn't think of anything to say, and turned her mouth into a pout.  
  
"I do not wish to further discuss the matter with one so young and foolish as you." she said finally, and turned her face back towards her embroidery.  
  
"Good, because I dislike arguing with someone that isn't a CHALLENGE to beat." Anya said.  
  
"Anya, please." said Lydia in a warning tone.  
  
"Sorry, Mother." her daughter muttered.  
  
They were quiet for a moment. Then there was the sound of someone knocking on the front door. I flew around the house to the door, mostly because I figured that whatever went on there would be more interesting than watching Cinderella and Anya shoot dirty looks at one another. And I was right. At the door stood a royal messenger, dressed in a fine white uniform with gold braid and buttons. His hair was brown, almost a red color. And his face was very freckly. I flew down to stand a couple of feet away from him, so I could listen in better on the conversation, if there were any. He may just hand over the invitation, say who it's from, and leave.  
  
Lydia opened the door. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Good afternoon, sir." she said, then curtsied.  
  
"Good afternoon, ma'am. I have come from the court of His Majesty, King Charming the Fifth. All ladies in the house are invited to a royal ball in celebration of the upcoming twenty-second birthday of His Royal Highness, Prince Charming the Sixth. All ladies in the house include servants and higher classes ages twelve and up. All information will be found on the invitation. Good afternoon." He touched his cap, bowed, and turned to go back down the walkway. Lydia stared after him, and then down at the invitation which he had somehow placed in her hands while he had been reciting. She blinked, then turned around and went back inside. I soared upwards again, back to the window, arriving back at the parlor seconds before her.  
  
"Girls, that was a messenger from King Charming." she announced when she entered back into the room.  
  
Cinderella and Anya looked up at her in surprise. Lydia's entrance had been a good thing, the two girls had been looking daggers at one another a moment before.  
  
"What for?" asked Sylvia, glancing up from her mending. "Sorceress Gildiana said we might get something from the palace soon, but she wouldn't tell me any more than that."  
  
"Why didn't you SAY something?" exploded Anya. "Something from the palace and you didn't mention it?!"  
  
"I didn't want you to work yourself up too much wondering what it was." explained Sylvia, looking back at her sewing.  
  
"I can't believe you didn't tell me." complained Anya in an aggrieved tone.  
  
"What did the king want?" Cinderella demanded.  
  
"He didn't really WANT anything. We got an invitation to a ball." said Lydia, opening the invitation and scanning it quickly. "It's next month, all ladies of twelve and older are invited, formal dress, of course, and it's for the prince's twenty-second birthday.  
  
"We will go, won't we?" exclaimed Anya.  
  
"Of course." Lydia smiled. "You don't really think I'd refuse to let you attend this?"  
  
Anya grinned. "Well, no, I just figured I need to make sure."  
  
"Whatever will we WEAR?" exclaimed Cinderella happily. Then her face clouded. "That is, if I'm allowed to go too. I wouldn't put it past you to make me stay home and sweep the floors or something."  
  
"Cinderella, of COURSE you're coming, you dolt." Anya exclaimed. "Much as I wish you DID stay home and attempt to work --- I doubt you'd SUCCEED, but still, one can always hope --- you're coming. Obviously."  
  
"Yes, Cinderella, you may come. I consider you to be one of my daughters, much as you think to the contrary, and I'm certainly not going to make you stay home and sweep the floors while your sisters and I go have a good time."  
  
"Good." Cinderella sniffed. "So, will we be getting new gowns for the marvelous event?" she asked.  
  
Lydia frowned and pursed her lips. "I don't know." she said at last. "I don't know if we can afford it. We've been rather low on money ever since Thomas died... I don't think we can really splurge on new gowns right now. Although..." she clapped her hands together. "Come with me, I have just the things."  
  
"Where?" asked Anya, laying her mending aside and standing up.  
  
"Well, a while ago Lady Rodimiller asked me to embroider some new gowns she'd bought. But as soon as I finished them, she said she didn't want them, they'd gone out of style by them. I was so angry, she even refused to pay for my work, and it took me three months to get the gowns done! But she said she didn't care if I kept the dresses, so they're up in the attic. With a little taking in and hemming, I think they'd fit you quite nicely."  
  
"I don't want gowns that are out of style!" exclaimed Cinderella.  
  
"They won't be." said Sylvia. "Baroness Rodimiller thinks anything's out of style if it's been around for a month. She has a reputation for buying gowns, wearing them once, and then tossing them out because they aren't at the top of the fashion list. The dresses will be perfectly fine."  
  
"I doubt that." muttered Cinderella. Anya sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. She and Sylvia exchanged looks, then both turned away to keep from laughing.  
  
"Well, I'm fine with a month-old ball gown." said Sylvia, standing up. "And if you embroidered them, they'll be beautiful." Her mother smiled appreciatively.  
  
"Come on, girls. I think there will be something perfect for each of you." she turned and left the room, calling over her shoulder. "I remember sewing one that's a beautiful green color, you may want to look at that one, Sylvia. It would set off your eyes so nicely." Her voice faded as she went down the hall, her daughters --- including Cinderella --- following her. 


	10. Ball Gowns and Very Important Surveys

A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed!!! It's what keeps me both writing and posting. :-) Does anyone know how to get bold, italics, underlined, different fonts and sizes, cream backgrounds (I've seen those on several fics, and I love them --- it makes reading so much easier on the eyes) etc.? If so, PLEASE let me know in a review. (So I can italicize PLEASE instead of putting in Caps. LOL.) Merci!Gracias! Tak! etc... (I am seriously hoping I spelled those right...)  
  
  
  
"What about this one?" asked Anya, spinning around, a pink gown swirling around her.  
  
"No, your hair has too much of a red tint in it. You shouldn't wear such a bright pink." Sylvia said. Anya sighed and set the gown back down on a large chest beside her.  
  
"What about this one?" asked Sylvia, pulling a lacy blue gown out of the chest's depths. "This would look very nice on you."  
  
"No, there's too much lace." Anya said distainfully, looking at the gown. "I want something a little more sensible-looking than that."  
  
"SENSIBLE for a BALL GOWN?" said Cinderella. She was shaking her head as though she found Anya to be a hopeless case. "Really."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with wanting something without much fluff to it." interceded Sylvia. She must have realized the same thing I did: this could turn into a full scale war if these two got to arguing about it. "I personally want something a little fancier than my ordinary wear, so a little lace is fine with me. But that doesn't mean Anya can't wear something pretty, but without much fluff to it." she continued. "Here, Cinderella, what about this one?" she added, holding up an elaborate many- skirted pastel yellow gown, with pink embroidery around the neckline and all over the outer skirt. Cinderella sniffed.  
  
"Too plain."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Eventually they all found gowns. Sylvia agreed instantly to the one her mother had had in mind, a dark green gown, embroidered in gold. It had a square neckline with a gold trim around it, gold embroidery around the hem of the flowing sleeves and the bottom of the dress, and the cut and flow of the gown enhanced Sylvia's height and slenderness. Cinderella had (after examining every gown in the chest) decided on a fluffy dress, light pink, with a poufy, sparkly sheer overskirt, and elaborate embroidery on the bodice, and poufy sleeves of the same material as the overskirt. For Anya, a dark blue dress, with silver embroidery on the bodice and lower skirt, a beautiful and fluff-free gown. And for Lydia, a beautiful shimmery periwinkle dress that swirled with her slightest movement.  
  
All the dresses would have to be taken in or the hemlines brought up. None of them would fit properly otherwise, particularly Cinderella's and Anya's. Lydia set them straight away to unpicking the dresses where they would need adjusting, then helped them begin to pin the waists or hems to the appropriate size. It was likely to take a while, so I left. I would check on them again in a while. For now though, I was going to head to the palace, and see if I could get a glimpse into Prince Charming's take on this whole thing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The prince was in his office when I arrived at the palace, along with his old counselor, Ferdinand. I was lucky --- the prince's office had a large window where I could hover undetected, and see inside the room quite well. After slipping my X-tra-Ear into my ear, I turned invisible and quickly found the prince, as I had purchased a small searching device a few days before. So far it was very useful.  
  
"I want all the stops pulled out." the prince was saying in a regal tone. "I want everybody to see what a fine country I have. Particularly if they don't live in it." he added thoughtfully. "I want the drapes in the ballroom replaced --- the ones we have now really don't look good in that room --- and if there's anything that needs more gold leaf, use it. I want rose bushes out on the balcony, it will give such a nice atmospheric smell, don't you think?" The prince didn't wait for a reply, and kept talking. "The chandeliers will all need to be dusted and any missing crystals replaced, we'll need all the silverware polished, maybe get a new set of dishes. Cream, I think, with a gold border. Finest china, of course."  
  
"Yes, sir." wheezed Ferdinand dutifully. The prince continued. "We will, of course, need some of the sleeping chambers prepared for guests, some of the princesses and their entourages will need lodging, and it's only appropriate that I should provide that. Make sure they're all aired out, they get new bedding, that sort of thing."  
  
"Yes, sir." said Ferdinand again.  
  
"Can you think of anything else that will need special attention?" Prince Charming asked.  
  
"Food, sire. What do you have in mind for refreshments?"  
  
"Something RICH. You know, expensive pastries, fine champagnes and wines, that sort of thing."  
  
"Very well sir. Anything else?"  
  
"No, I think that's it. I'll trust you to make any changes that need to be made, arranging the ordering, assigning the rooms, and so on."  
  
"Thank you sir."  
  
"You're welcome." the prince said graciously. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"So, sir, I am wondering... how exactly are you planning on finding the perfect maiden to wed in one night? Surely you cannot speak to them all, least of all find whichever one whose company you prefer, from short conversations."  
  
"I plan on observing the ladies. I shall only speak to the most beautiful ones, obviously. Then I shall decide, from those, which lady I like the most."  
  
"You plan on selecting a wife based on her beauty first, then personality, is that correct?" Ferdinand asked, looking slightly skeptical.  
  
"That is correct." said the prince, as if he were stating the obvious. Ferdinand nodded. "I see."  
  
"That will be all, I think." said the prince in a businesslike tone. "You are dismissed."  
  
Ferdinand shuffled out, and the prince turned to a paper on his desk, and began marking on it with a large white quill. I pulled out a pair of Optospecs out of my sash, and put them on. They looked like regular glasses, but they had far more uses. I tapped the bridge a few times. Every time I tapped, the view through the glasses zoomed in a bit more, until I could clearly read what the prince was marking so dutifully.  
  
"ROYALTY LEISURE SURVEY" the heading read. I snorted, and read on.  
  
"Please help us better serve you by filling out this survey. Mail to: Richer Royals, 169 Hopplekirk St., Grindle, Pipenn, 17593. Postage is prepaid.  
  
"What is your favorite sport? ________________________  
  
"What is your favorite way to spend money? __________________________  
  
"Do you enjoy theatre? (circle one): Yes No  
  
"If yes, what genre do you prefer? __________________________"  
  
The survey seemed to go on for three sheets of parchment, both sides filled. I shook my head. The prince was filling this survey as if his kingdom's welfare depended on it. Jumping frog princes, this man was hopeless! 


	11. They're Perfect For Each Other

"Sylvia, it's beautiful!" exclaimed Anya, staring at her sister. "I mean it, you look gorgeous!"  
  
"Thanks." said Sylvia. She swirled around, looking at her reflection in a tall three-way mirror. She was beautiful. She was wearing her ball gown, which she had fitted and sewn. The skirt swirled, the sleeves billowed whenever they caught a whiff of air, and the dark green color did indeed bring out her green eyes.  
  
"How's your dress coming?" Sylvia asked. "This one didn't take that long."  
  
"Because you used your magic to sew it." said Anya accusingly. Sylvia laughed.  
  
"I know. Sorry. You want help with yours?"  
  
"No, that's all right. It's almost finished. You might want to offer the help to Cinderella though --- she just barely finished unpicking it!"  
  
"She'd probably accuse me of trying to use magic just so I could curse her dress so she'd look fat every time she wore it or something." Sylvia laughed.  
  
"That's not a bad idea!" exclaimed Anya. "Could you?"  
  
"I could but I won't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because Mother would kill me."  
  
"Mother wouldn't kill a fly."  
  
"Well, okay, that's true. Because I don't want to waste my energy on it. She'd be pretty even if she was fat."  
  
Anya sighed. "I know. Still, it would be fun, wouldn't it..."  
  
* * * * * "Cinderella, aren't you done yet?" asked Anya. Cinderella sat in a chair in front of the fire, holding her gown and a threaded needle in her lap. "Have you even STARTED?"  
  
"I don't know why I should have to do servant's work," said Cinderella with an annoyed air. "Can't we HIRE somebody to do this?"  
  
"No, unless you can pay for it," said Anya. "And you can't, you don't have enough money." "Oh, and how do you know that?" Cinderella asked testily.  
  
"Because you don't work hard enough to get a job, which means you don't have any money. And you spend any money you get right away, so you don't have any savings."  
  
"Why doesn't your MOTHER pay for it?" asked Cinderella, with an injured sniff. "She's SUPPOSED to be taking CARE of me. But no, I've been made into a maid in my own home."  
  
"Poor thing," said Anya unconvincingly. "Poor little MAID, she has to sew her own dress."  
  
"Go away!" said Cinderella haughtily.  
  
"No."  
  
"Go AWAY!" Cinderella shrieked.  
  
"Fine," said Anya. "Goodness, you do have a short temper, don't you? I hear princes aren't too impressed by that."  
  
"What do PRINCES have to do with anything?" asked Cinderella, trying to act aloof, but interested in spite of herself.  
  
"Well, we ARE attending a ball in little more than two weeks. It's being held in honor of the prince, and I hear that he's going to try and find a wife at the ball," said Anya unconcernedly. I shook my head. News --- and rumors --- certainly traveled fast. Unless of course Anya was making this up to tease Cinderella. I wouldn't put it past her. Or hold it against her, for that matter  
  
"I'm not old enough to be married," said Cinderella. "Your mother would never allow it."  
  
"She would if the PRINCE wanted to marry you. It doesn't matter, though. He'll not be likely to notice you anyways."  
  
And Anya slipped out of the room before Cinderella could say anything.  
  
Cinderella stood up and set her sewing down in her chair. Then she curtsied to the air, and began to dance and sing, a love song about how handsome the prince was. The door opened and Anya stuck her head in. "WHAT are you doing?" Anya asked. Cinderella stopped her imaginary dance.  
  
"Aren't I supposed to? I'm a slave, I'm going to a ball, aren't I supposed to start a musical number right about now?" she asked, looking puzzled. Anya groaned, and left, slamming the door behind her. And Cinderella began her song and dance routine again. I sighed and shook my head.  
  
I was beginning to like this idea of marrying her off to the prince... get rid of her, the stepfamily goes home happy, she's a princess, and the prince has his beautiful wife.  
  
And Prince Charming and my client were PERFECT for each other.  
  
* * * * * "I think I have the whole situation under control," I reported happily. I leaned back in one of the purple chairs in Mrs. Pearl's office. "The biggest problem now will be getting Cinderella to sew her dress," I concluded with a grin.  
  
"Well, it seems to be working out fine," began Mrs. Pearl. "But ---" her voice trailed off.  
  
"But what? I think it's all working out all right. The only thing I have to worry about now is her sewing her dress and getting to the ball safely."  
  
"Well, not exactly." Mrs. Pearl said. "There is no guarantee that Prince Charming will select her to be his wife."  
  
"What do you mean? She's gorgeous, and once he hears her woeful story, I'm guessing he'll take pity on her."  
  
"You don't even know if he'll notice her, let alone have a conversation. There are thousands of maidens in the country, and nearly all of them will go. Not to mention all the men --- they wouldn't want people to know he's trying to find a wife, otherwise he'd be mobbed, no matter where he went, so they invited EVERYBODY, mostly as protection." Mrs. Pearl laughed wryly. "And there will be lots of gorgeous women there, not only is his entire kingdom coming --- thank heavens it's a small one, otherwise his palace couldn't hold them all, let alone his ball room --- but there will be princesses from other countries as well."  
  
"Couldn't I interfere a bit?" I asked.  
  
"I wouldn't suggest it. Romances go all right when they're prodded and pinched in the right direction, but if you tell a prince or girl who to marry, they usually bristle and get all stubborn, saying they can make their own decisions and so on. And I don't know if there are many ways that you could prod that would work." "Then what can I do? The ball is in only a little more than a week."  
  
"Well, for one thing --- though I doubt she'll need much persuasion --- talk to Cinderella. Give her tips on how to catch a prince's attention. You should have covered that sort of thing in your second year at the G.A."  
  
I nodded.  
  
Mrs. Pearl continued: "I think she'll take it better if you try to tell her to marry a prince than he will if you tell him to marry a peasant."  
  
"But he said he's all right with commoners."  
  
"Oh, he'll say that, of course," she said dismissively with a wave of her hand, "but he won't really be all right with it until he meets a commoner that he likes. General princely behavior." she chuckled. "They're all the same."  
  
"Should I disguise myself when I talk to Cinderella?"  
  
"Mmm...." She thought for a moment. "No. I think this one would like to know that she has a fairy godmother on her case."  
  
"All right."  
  
"Run along, then." Mrs. Pearl said with a smile. "I think you may want to tackle this right away."  
  
"Thank you for the help. I could have made a big muddle over this," I said as I stood up.  
  
"Not a problem. It's my job."  
  
"Bye!" I said, as I made to leave the room. Just before I closed the door, she called "Celeste!"  
  
"Yes?" I stuck my head back in through the door.  
  
Mrs. Pearl raised her eyebrows. "You may wish to mention to your client that princes aren't too impressed with unstitched ball gowns."  
  
I laughed. "Yes, ma'am!" 


	12. A Shopping Excursion

A/N: Please review!!! PLEASE!!! I know I sound kind of desperate, but I'll sacrifice my pride for reviews. :-)  
  
After a bit of snooping around, I discovered that Cinderella would be completely alone in the house for a couple of hours while Lydia and Anya went to the market, and Sylvia was at her magic lessons. I decided to tackle her then.  
  
With full garb, of course.  
  
I made a trip to "Geraldine's Extravaganza: Clothing and Accessories". It was in downtown Sherbet Swirl City. The shop was not the classiest place, but full of poufs and frills and shimmers that would delight Cinderella to no end, I was sure. I was met at the polished wooden desk by a skinny blonde fairy, about seventeen or so, wearing the Geraldine's uniform: a poufy pink skirt that reached the floor, a pink blouse with a long poufy sleeves, and a lavender sleeveless bodice, laced up in the front with white ribbon. Her silver nametag read (in fancy cursive) "Clarice".  
  
"How may I help you?" she asked.  
  
"I'm looking for an outfit that will dazzle my current client. I want to make a big impression, and I think lots of swirls of lace will do it," I said with a smile.  
  
"One of those, huh?" she asked sympathetically. I nodded, raising my eyes to the ceiling.  
  
"Well, I think I know what might work. Follow me."  
  
I did so, and was led to the middle of the store. Three mannequins were modeling gowns. I knew immediately which one Clarice had in mind.  
  
It had a long skirt, which was held out by lots of lace petticoats (the skirt was conveniently held up by a little metal clip to show off the fine lace), which added a nice little trim to the bottom of the skirt. The skirt was made of a shimmery pink material, which changed it's shade whenever the material moved. Fluffy pink sleeves poufed out to the elbow. The bodice was of the same material, only tighter than the rest of the dress.  
  
"What do you think?" asked Clarice hopefully.  
  
"Perfect," I said enthusiastically. "Can I try it on?"  
  
"Sure. what size are you?"  
  
"Four."  
  
"Okay..." Clarice rummaged through a rack nearby, and pulled out a copy of the dress. "How many petticoats?"  
  
"Two. I have some others at home, and I'll just put the lace ones over them."  
  
"Okay. Here's the dress, the dressing rooms are straight over that way," she pointed to the back of the shop.  
  
"Do you want some petticoats to try on under the dress, just to get the feel of it?"  
  
"No, that's all right. I'll just use my wand."  
  
"Thanks," Clarice said, grinning. "That's about twenty-five less skirts for me to put away."  
  
I laughed, took the dress from her, and headed to the dressing rooms. They were very nice. The walls were painted a light purple, there were thick rugs on the floor inside the stalls over the hardwood floor, and the mirrors were large and three way. They were also, to my great relief, spotlessly clean.  
  
I slipped the dress on over my head, and did up the zipper in the back, then pointed my wand at the skirt and flicked it. The skirt swelled out like a balloon. A very big balloon. I patted it several times, pushing some air out. There. I swirled around, checking the back. The gown fit perfectly. Add some shimmery makeup, glitter in my hair, and a good pair of wings, and I would make quite the impression on Cinderella.  
  
I took the dress off and changed back into my ordinary clothes. Then I took the dress back up to the desk, where Clarice was waiting for me.  
  
"Do you like it?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"It's perfect!" I exclaimed as I laid the dress on the counter. My petticoats were already there.  
  
"Oh, wait a minute." I walked over to a glass case which held several glittery stars. They twinkled and shimmered. A plaque next to them read: "Grab-Me Glowers".  
  
"What are these?" I asked with interest.  
  
"Those? Oh, they're little things you can attach onto a dress or hair or whatever. It makes the first person of the opposite gender you make eye contact with after putting it on fall in love with you and go after you as soon as they see the star. They can only be purchased under special circumstances, because there have been too many cases of people using them and then finding out that whoever they thought they were in love with is actually a bore or a jerk or something, or people accidentally making eye contact with the wrong person, that sort of thing," Clarice explained in one breath.  
  
"Can I get one?" I asked. "This may solve a huge problem I'm up against."  
  
"Yes, but you have to show me your Godmother License, proof of ID, and I have to put the purchase in our files."  
  
"That's fine. I'll take one." I said eagerly. Clarice went over to the case and took a large silver key out of her sash. She fitted it into the lock. Out of the top of the lock flew a tiny and dainty-looking storybook fairy, which asked "Password?" in a high, silvery little voice.  
  
"Cover your ears," said Clarice, rolling her eyes. "Otherwise, at least according to the store's rulebook, I'll get fired because you'll sneak in here some night and steal all the tight-security items."  
  
"Incorrect Password!" screeched the little fairy delightedly.  
  
"Oh, you be quiet!" Clarice snapped at it.  
  
"Why, you! How dare you! You... you..." the fairy sputtered. I covered my ears. Clarice's lips moved, and she removed the key from the lock. I unplugged my ears, in time to hear the little fairy sigh heavily, and, with a very disappointed look, she flew back inside the lock. It clicked open, and Clarice pulled the door aside. She pulled out one of the stars, handling it gingerly, and set it on the counter. The door slammed itself shut.  
  
"Touchy little thing, isn't she?" Clarice said.  
  
"Don't all the little ones tend to be like that?" I asked. Clarice nodded.  
  
"I suppose that's why people tend to use them in books all the time --- they're very entertaining, in the way of being emotional. They help make a good story," she said.  
  
"They make good soap operas too," I said. Clarice laughed.  
  
"No kidding," she said. "There are about five of them on Soapy Bubbles." I nodded. Soapy Bubbles 47 was a soap opera channel, part of the Abracadabra Television Network.  
  
While we were talking, Clarice had been putting the Grab-Me Glower in a small cardboard box. She taped it shut. "That's so nobody can see it until you decide to use it. Otherwise you may run into a sticky situation," she explained. "Now, I have to see your Godmother License and proof of ID before I can give this to you." She rolled her eyes. I pulled the documents out of my sash, she glanced them over, and handed the box to me.  
  
"So you're in training?" she asked, referring to my temporary license.  
  
"Yep. I'm on my first case."  
  
"I wish I was. I'm not starting college until I can save up the money, which won't be until next year, most likely," she said, looking rather annoyed about the matter.  
  
"Sorry," I said sympathetically. "The year will pass in no time, though."  
  
"I hope so," she sighed. "Okay, here's your dress, the petticoats, and the star." She punched keys with her long, well manicured nails as she spoke. "The total is... twenty nine Nectars and sixteen Acorn Cups." "Ouch." I muttered. That was quite a bit of money. But I could use the dress for years to come, if I continued to fit in it. The dress would, most likely, have a anti-resize spell on it, so I would have to buy a new one if I grew out of this. I'd just better keep my shape, then.  
  
I pulled out the gold and copper coins and handed them to Clarice, who dropped them into her cash register. A light pink receipt came out of the register with a twinkling sound. Clarice ripped it off and gave the machine a dirty look. "That is so tacky," she muttered. "Don't TWINKLE!"  
  
I laughed, took my purchases and with a wave, left the store. 


	13. I Am of Noble Blood and So Forth

Three days later, at around noon, I dressed myself in my magnificent new costume, adorned myself with an excess of glitter and jewelry, polished my wand, put on a magnificent pair of golden wings, and headed to the home of Cinderella. I was invisible, as it most likely would have been a hassle to deal with anyone who saw me in full garb. Without the costume, I was left alone, but the second you strap on wings or a ball gown... well, better just to avoid that potential mess.  
  
Cinderella was sitting in the parlor, embroidering on a bit of silk. Embroidering silk and whining tended to be her only activities. I shook my head, and began to think about how best to make my entrance. I should have set up a quick transport spell, but too late for that. My only real options seemed to be going down the chimney, through the window or through the door. Certainly not the chimney. Maybe Saint Nicholas enjoyed that, but not me. The window was too small for me to get through without ruining my skirts and making a fool of myself. I could call her out into the garden... yes, if I wanted all the birds from miles around running and telling this or that poor beggar boy who fed them crumbs that there was a fairy godmother in an easily accessible area. I think not.  
  
Which left the door. How dull. Oh, well, that was my only option and like it or not, I was going to use it. How embarrassing.  
  
I flew down to the door, scolding myself that I hadn't given this a thought before. I pulled the chain that rang to doorbell. It tinkled, and I pulled out my wand. I was still invisible, ready to pop back into view as soon as Cinderella opened the door. I'd messed this up so far, and if I had to use the door, I was going to add at least a little excitement to it.  
  
There was a dainty pattering of feet from within, and the door creaked open. Cinderella peeked timidly out, and looked around, confused at seeing no one there. I took a deep breath, and...  
  
CLANG!  
  
Ouch, I was aiming for a dainty tinkle, not the entire cymbal section of the Godmother Academy Sound Effects crew.  
  
Glitter burst out of my wand, and I appeared in a shower of silver. Cinderella's eyes widened.  
  
"Good day, milady," I said, trying to sound as if I hadn't just blown both of our eardrums out.  
  
"G-good day," Cinderella stammered. "Wh-who are you?"  
  
"Your fairy godmother," I announced grandly. "I am here about the ball. Might I come in?"  
  
"Oh, of course!" Cinderella gushed. "My fairy godmother, truly? I hadn't any idea I HAD a godmother, let alone a FAIRY one! Please, come into the parlor, sit down," she bubbled, leading me down the hall and into the parlor, where she had been sewing moments before.  
  
"ARE you comfortable?" she cooed once I had been properly seated. I smiled and nodded.  
  
"Yes, thank you, dear."  
  
"Would you care for a cup of tea, perhaps?" she asked hopefully. I smiled again and said, "Yes, that would be lovely."  
  
Cinderella looked expectantly at me. After an awkward silence she said, "Well, go ahead, make some tea." I raised my eyebrows at her.  
  
"With your WAND," she said, as though I must be dim-witted to have not realized that. I blinked a couple of times, then fixed a dazzling smile back in place, and silkily said, "Oh, of course, dear."  
  
"I want raspberry tea," Cinderella said. I nodded.  
  
"Of course, dear."  
  
This 'dear'ing was rather annoying, but it was almost a requisite for working with a client. Freshman material, to be sure, but still...  
  
I magicked a small table with a lace tablecloth in between our chairs, complete with a shiny pink teapot, dainty little pink cups on saucers, a sugar bowl, and a small plate of blueberry muffins.  
  
"Sugar?" I asked politely.  
  
"Yes please," she said daintily. "Two spoonfuls."  
  
I measured the spoonfuls into her cup, then handed it carefully over to her. She sipped daintily. I spooned a little sugar into my own cup and stirred it absently, watching Cinderella. Finally I spoke.  
  
"So, dear, I am here to help you get to the ball. It is in one week, and you seem to be having some problems," I ventured.  
  
"Indeed," said mourned Cinderella dramatically. "I am being forced to attend this ball not in a new gown, but a very old one, which was previously owned my someone else!"  
  
Apparently this was a sin beyond all comparison.  
  
"Yes, I'm aware of the problem," I mused, sipping my tea. "I have seen the gown---"  
  
"How?" Cinderella cut in.  
  
"Confidential information, dear," I said amiably. "I understand that you haven't taken it in yet."  
  
"I! I have to sew my own clothing!" cried Cinderella passionately. "Can you imagine? The embarrassment! The HUMILIATION! It's DEGRADING!"  
  
Did I say all a sin beyond all comparison? Try all COMPREHENSION.  
  
"Well, dear, people all over the country sew their own clothing every day," I said patiently.  
  
"SERVANTS do! I am not a servant! I am of NOBLE BLOOD!"  
  
What? Her papers hadn't mentioned that.  
  
"Noble blood, dear?" I asked, hoping she would elaborate a bit.  
  
"Well, not noble BLOOD, exactly," she admitted grandly. "But inside, I am every bit a princess!"  
  
She was right. At least if you were measuring royalty by Prince Charming the Stupid.  
  
"I'm even BEAUTIFUL!" she added.  
  
"And humble" I muttered silently. Then aloud, "Well, dear, perhaps this once you could compromise? You sew the gown, and... you get to get out of the carriage first when you get to the palace?" I asked hopefully. It was pathetic, I know, but I wanted to come up with something quickly that wouldn't trouble the stepfamily, and Cinderella was so dense she just may go with it...  
  
"Maybe," she said thoughtfully. "What about I get to get out first, AND get escorted in by my own footman?"  
  
"What a good idea!" I said enthusiastically. Cinderella looked smug.  
  
"Okay, then," I said briskly. Cinderella stared at me. "Can fairy godmothers say things like 'okay'?" she asked skeptically. Oops. "Of course," I lied. In truth, we were supposed to have flowery speech, and never say anything like 'okay'. It sounds too modern, I suppose. I plastered on yet another false smile.  
  
"So you will sew your dress if you get to get out of the carriage first, and get your own footman?" I asked hopefully. She nodded mournfully. "I suppose so."  
  
"Good!" I said, maybe a with a little too much enthusiasm. Cinderella gave me another odd look. I quickly began speaking again.  
  
"You do wish to marry the prince, don't you, child?" I asked. 'Child' sounded even worse than 'dear'. Not to mention I wasn't more than maybe five years older than her.  
  
"Of cour-" Cinderella started cooing, then stopped and got a look of horror on her face.  
  
"What's the matter?" I asked.  
  
"Listen!" she hissed. I held still and listened for whatever she had heard. Footsteps. Humming. One of the family was home.  
  
"You must go!" Cinderella whispered dramatically. And much as I didn't want to admit it, she was right. One of the most important rules about being a fairy godmother is to let as few people as possible know that you are working on a case that pertains to them, and 'evil' stepfamilies would most certainly be included in that. "Don't tell anyone about me," I said softly. "And keep sewing!"  
  
And I disappeared with a wave of my wand, taking the tea table with me, but leaving Cinderella with the muffin she had in her hand. Just seconds after, Anya came into the parlor. I slipped out through the open door. As I left, I heard Anya exclaim, "What are you doing? You're not supposed to eat in here. As a matter of fact, you're supposed to be sweeping the hall. Not that you'd ever raise a finger to help anyone, let alone us..."  
  
And I had to smile in spite of myself. 


	14. A Golden Spot of Wood

The days passed. I checked up on Cinderella every day. She had taken my advice to heart, apparently, and had begun sewing with zeal. Anya continually pestered her about why she had suddenly decided to lift a needle and help herself. Mostly for the entertainment of it --- Cinderella was rather comical in her aloofness and everlasting "I cannot say, 'tis Top Secret" replies.  
  
Anya's gown was also done, and looked beautiful on her. Lydia had finished hers as well, and the result was stunning.  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if the prince falls in love with HER," I thought, as I watched her swirl in front of the mirror to see how it looked.  
  
And Cinderella toiled on. Finally, after five days after I had appeared (a day which I marked carefully in my Project Log) her gown was completed. It fit her well, and looked quite nice --- if you like all those huge clouds of pink. Never mind, they were in style (for who knows what reason) and she looked the princess that she just KNEW she was.  
  
One day, the day before Cinderella's gown was completed, I arrived at her home just in time to see Sylvia arrive at her gate --- on the arm of a very handsome young man. There was a faint odor of flowers (roses, I thought) hanging about them, and when you got close, the far-off sound of violins. Somebody's in love! rang a sing-song voice in my head. I told it, rather sharply, to be quiet, but the image of Sylvia and her suitor remained in my mind, and I decided that once this Cinderella case was wrapped up, I would do something for this girl...  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Your Highness," said Ferdinand, councilor to Prince Charming. He bowed low in front of the couch where the prince was lounging.  
  
"What can I do for you, Ferdinand?" asked the prince lazily, slowly sitting up.  
  
"Your Highness," Ferdinand said again, "The ballroom is ready for Your Highness's inspection and approval."  
  
"Oh." The prince stood up, looking rather disappointed that he had to leave his utterly relaxed position for something as trivial as the ballroom.  
  
I flew down onto a balcony which had been added recently at the order of Charming. It was bedecked with roses, and the smell made one rather faint. Perfect, lightheadedness is always good for a girl when you want her to fall in love at first sight. Not that Cinderella would need any help. A glass door was opened into the ballroom, and I quickly went through it.  
  
The ballroom was, like the rest of the palace, gold and white. In this case though, mostly gold. And it was enormous.  
  
A tall domed ceiling stretched up, looking far higher than it had looked from the outside. I was slightly puzzled by this until I saw an brand name for one of the better magical expansion merchandisers carved in a corner of the ceiling. Attached into the ceiling at artistic intervals were long golden chains, which led down to chandeliers hanging at different heights, some high enough to illuminate the ceiling quite well, and some low enough that they would be only ten or so feet from the head of a short person (such as myself) standing in the room.  
  
The walls were gold, large circular gold framed mirrors attached to the wall every fifteen feet or so. Pillars helped hold the roof up, or perhaps they were there only for decoration, I wasn't sure.  
  
While I was looking around, the prince and his counselor entered through a pair of large golden doors with an impressive white and gold coat of arms on them. They came to the middle of the room and began speaking. I edged closer, invisible as usual.  
  
"What do you think, sire?" Ferdinand was asking. "A new coat of gold leaf has been applied everywhere it was needed, five rose-covered balconies have been added, the mirrors have, for the most part, been replaced, and the spell on the ceiling has been updated."  
  
"Lovely," said the prince, looking around and seeming rather please. Then his face fell. "What's the matter with that mirror?"  
  
"What mirror, sire?" asked Ferdinand, looking worried.  
  
"That one," said the prince, pointing. Ferdinand rushed over to the mirror he had pointed at, and studied it carefully.  
  
"Nothing, sire."  
  
"No, there's something wrong, I'm certain of it." He hurried over as well, looked at the mirror, and gasped melodramatically.  
  
"Look, there!" he gasped, lifting a finger and resting it on the mirror's frame. Ferdinand peered closely at it, then stepped back as if he had been stung. I quickly flew over to where they were and looked at the mirror. And, heaven forbid, there was a spot of wood showing through the gold leaf. Wood which was nearly the color of the leaf, but still, a SPOT OF WOOD!  
  
Ferdinand quickly pulled out a whistle and gave three long blasts on it. I flinched --- I was standing right next to him.  
  
As soon as Ferdinand lowered the whistle, there was the sound of heavy footsteps in the hall. The door burst open, and four burly men, all wearing a uniform of white with red trim rushed in. Ferdinand told them, in a very low voice, about the calamity. They nodded and quickly removed the mirror from the wall and disappeared.  
  
I shook my head in disbelief. This was really, truly frightening.  
  
But I knew one thing.  
  
Cinderella would love living here. 


	15. Excitement in Arpathia

A/N: Yes, I'm still here. I know it took quite a while to get this up, and I'm really sorry! *falls down on knees and implores you all to forgive me* Or did anybody even notice?... Anyways, it's here now, and as you can see, excitement is building in Arpathia! :-)  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Two days left to go. Just two days. I earnestly hoped that everything would go according to plan: Cinderella dons her gown, goes to the palace with her family. All dressed up in a ball gown, I catch her and give her the Grab-Me Glower, pin in onto her dress, and instruct her on how to use it. I stay at the ball, and observe the goings-on, nudging a little here and there if I need to. Cinderella and the prince fall in madly in love, and everybody lives happily ever after. Should be simple enough.  
  
I hoped.  
  
I left little anonymous packages on the Fleur's doorstep. One day some jewelry: a silver and sapphire necklace for Lydia, a delicate emerald ring and necklace set for Sylvia, some silver bracelets for Anya. And for Cinderella, a diamond tiara. Another day some Everfresh flowers, which, of course, matched their gowns. Cinderella hinted ominously that she knew who they were from, and, to her great irritation, her stepsisters didn't even ask her to tell them.  
  
Lydia had hired a coach to take them to and from the palace. Cinderella, as usual, was irritated that it wasn't the grandest coach around... in fact, the door handles weren't even gold! And of course, as she was annoyed, she made sure the rest of the family was too. Though it wasn't the coach they were annoyed about.  
  
The prince was bustling all over the palace, demanding that a thousand tiny fairies sit around on the roses outside and illuminate the balcony, that an entire orchestra play the music for the ball ("I don't CARE if there's not enough room! Build an addition!"), and that the food be only the finest --- and freshest --- delicacies available.  
  
And the entire Arpathian countryside was in an uproar. There were daily fights in dress shops over which girl would get which dress, there were girls that would start screaming at another young lady on the street if she mentioned that she was interested in maybe marrying the prince (which meant that the streets were constantly filled with femenine screaming), among other things. I hadn't seen anything like this for a previous ball --- apparently the news had leaked out that Prince Charming was looking for a wife.  
  
All Magical Assistance agencies were working overtime. I had two instances in which I was assigned to conjure up a dress and some transportation for some poor girl who couldn't get such things on her own. There was a guessing jar at the front desk of the G.A. Experience Agency, in which godmothers could write down who they thought would have the most luck with the prince, with a prize of 50 Nectars. I, of course, voted for Cinderella. The superstitious corner of my mind hoped it might have an effect on the outcome of my case. Really, really hoped.  
  
One day left. Every maiden in the country (thank heavens it was a small one!) and several of the princesses and nobles from other countries had their ball gown in readiness. Several cosmetic stores had earned enough money from the past few weeks that they were able to open new stores full of goods. There wasn't a livery stable around that wasn't completely booked for the next night, and there were even a few ladies who were going to end up walking, as there were no free carriages around.  
  
The Fleur household was in a flurry. Work had been abandoned, and the day was spent trying on different kinds of rouge --- Lydia had given special permission to Cinderella and Anya to wear it to the ball, "just this once!" --- and experimenting with hair. Lydia was almost as bad as the girls, flying around, looking through the attic for old jewelry and accessories, then dashing off to the market to get more hairclips, only to rush home to find out that Anya had ripped the hem of her dress. That was quickly sewn up, with help from Sylvia's magic, and the ladies fell to doing their hair once more.  
  
I'm afraid I wasn't completely immune to the craze either. I would be attending the ball, so I convinced myself that the gown I had just purchased wouldn't suffice --- I had, after all, already appeared to Cinderella in it. Neither of my other gowns would do either, so I went out and bought another one. Luckily I regained SOME control after a while, and refrained from buying a sparkling purple contraption I never would have even considered while in my right mind... I settled for a simple but elegant silver gown, tight-fitting at the waist, with long, tight sleeves, and only a few petticoats underneath. Nothing fancy, but pretty, and luckily, quite inexpensive.  
  
Then, finally, after all the waiting, all the hard work, the day of the ball arrived. The day when I would show my stuff, and hopefully ("please oh please oh please oh please") succeed in my first job... 


	16. A Carriage, a Toad, and a Depressed Cric...

A/N: YES! FINALLY I HAVE UPDATED! (True, it's taken me a month, but that's entirely beside the point.) Anyways, PLEASE review this, preferably an honest and frank review (you won't hurt my feelings, I promise). Of course, pure praise is always appreciated, but criticism is worshipped! :-)  
  
**********  
  
"Girls! Girls! The carriage is here! Hurry, Sylvia." Lydia's voice rang out from the front hall. It was time to leave for the ball, and I had quickly flown back to supervise my client. I was horribly anxious. Being dressed on that new silver gown did nothing to lessen my nerves. I was fluttering outside --- invisible as usual --- and peeking in through the windows whenever I could. There was a scurry of feet, and the door was pushed open to reveal the ladies dressed in all their finery. Lydia's hair had been pulled up artistically, and little chestnut ringlets hung down at the base of her neck and at her temples. Sylvia had twisted her up in a complex pattern of tiny, shining black braids, Anya's was twisted up into a knot, and Cinderella's was piled on top of her head in dozens of tiny little curls. Miniscule diamonds were attached onto many of them, and her hair was a mass of sparkle and curl. Not exactly MY style, but striking nonetheless.  
  
They filed out the door. Lydia was wearing a thin lacy silver shawl, Sylvia and Anya wore short and attractive cloaks, and Cinderella was wearing what I suppose was a cloak, made of a thin, puffy pink material. I couldn't see the purpose of it --- the shawl and cloaks were meant to keep their wearers warm, but this would do nothing of the sort. Oh well. If Cinderella liked it, who was I to say?  
  
The coachman quickly jumped down from his perch and unrolled a blue carpet. It arrived at the ladies' feet, and Lydia led the way down it to the coach. They were helped in, and then --- they were off.  
  
I flew up to the top of the carriage and settled myself on the roof, after making sure it was strong enough to support my weight, and watched as carriage after carriage pulled onto the main road. There were carriages in front of and behind us, and I thoroughly entertained myself be speculating how much each had cost, and what type of gowns the ladies inside would be wearing.  
  
We rattled along the road for a while, and the sun had just started to touch the horizon when...  
  
CRACK!  
  
I jumped up into the air, startled, and floated up above the carriage roof, which was now considerably lower than it had been moments before. There were muffled exclamations from inside, and the driver hopped down from his perch with a choice curse. I couldn't figure out what was wrong... until I saw a few bits of splintered wood where one of the wheels had been. I flew down as the driver helped the ladies out of the carriage and surveyed the damage. Rats! The wheel was broken beyond repair, even for a godmother's magic.  
  
The driver crouched beside me. I scuttled away from him to avoid being detected. He started shaking his head and muttering to himself.  
  
Great. Just great.  
  
"Oh well," I muttered under my breath to no one in particular. "I guess I'm going to have to rise to the occasion and pull of something spectacular." I groaned silently, and flew off back the way we had come, in the direction of the nearest house.  
  
There. A big brick building, with a huge garden in back. I flew to it and hovered above the damp earth. "Why must I be wearing a fancy gown when something like this happens?" I complained to a nearby toad sitting on a rock. He croaked sharply at me.  
  
"I know, I know, it's my job," I said, making a face at it. "You don't need to remind me."  
  
He gave me a look. I blinked at him.  
  
"You're really irritating, you know that?"  
  
He croaked in response. I shook my head, and turned to survey the garden. Closest to me were some strawberry plants... carrots... tomatoes... there! Pumpkins! They were supposed to be used for servants, but considering Cinderella's dissatisfaction with her current position, I could probably bend the rules a little. I flew over to the nearest one, and tried to pull it up from the ground.  
  
"Ouch!" I exclaimed as the fine hairs covering the stem poked into my flesh. The toad croaked loudly. I glared at it. "It's not funny."  
  
I pulled out my wand and pointed it rather sharply at the offending stem. It severed itself a little too quickly, snapping around and whacking my leg. I scowled.  
  
"Stupid thing..."  
  
I picked up the pumpkin, muttering darkly at it as I soared back up into the sky, my orange treasure tucked tightly under my arm.  
  
I flew a short distance off into a nearby field of corn. The carriage was blocked from view by the crowd of drivers demanding that the road be unblocked, young ladies and a few young gentlemen trying to figure out what was causing the holdup, and more than one older person, either offering their condolences to the poor family, or trying to get their children back in their own carriage.  
  
I set the pumpkin down carefully on an open patch of ground. The corn stalks were just high enough to cover me from view if I bent over. I quickly pulled out the wand and pointed it at the pumpkin. It glowed gold and began to hover a foot or so above my head. So far, so good. This was a complex charm, and if I messed it up, not only would the Fleurs not have a carriage, I would be liable for a lot of smashed corn. I flicked the wand, and uttered a few choice, and hopeful, words. The pumpkin began to grow in size. Okay... next step.  
  
"Ribbit?!" A toad jumped onto my head. The same toad, as a matter of fact, that had been in the garden. It had apparently come with me. I screamed, startled, then quickly stifled my voice, looking carefully over to make sure none of the crowd had noticed me.  
  
"Ribbit," the toad said matter-of-factly. I grabbed it with one hand and dropped it, none to gently, onto the ground. It croaked indignantly.  
  
"You be quiet. I'll deal with you in a minute. AND DON'T YOU DARE MOVE," I whispered threateningly. It looked at me without blinking, then purposely hopped an inch or so.  
  
"Smart-aleck," I said.. The toad looked smug.  
  
I turned my attention to the pumpkin, which was still growing, bigger and bigger, and turning more gold every second. I was astonished that no one had noticed it yet.  
  
There. Good enough. I snapped the wand back and though pulling on an imaginary fishing line, and the enormous gold pumpkin started spinning. As it spun, windows appeared, as did two doors, a perch for the driver and one for the footman, reigns, and even a set of golden steps. I smiled, twitched the wand again, and it stopped spinning and hovered in the air.  
  
"Now you," I said to the frog, and before he could protest, I swirled my wand around his head. In a cloud of horrible-smelling green smoke, a middle aged man appeared in a blue and gold uniform. He grinned.  
  
"I'm a driver, huh?"  
  
"Yes." I magicked him up to the driver's seat.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Shhhh!" I gestured to the people at the road. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"They don't notice nothin'."  
  
"Well, they won't if you keep your mouth shut," I said pointedly. "Now, do you know where I can get a footman?"  
  
"Yeah. That cricket, right there," he gestured to the ground beside me. I looked down, and sure enough, there was a little brown cricket next to me.  
  
"How did you see that?" I asked surprised. "He matched the ground perfectly." "I have special contacts," said the frog-turned-driver smugly.  
  
"Oh." I swirled the wand over the cricket's head, and in a burst of smoke, yellow this time, a small and wiry boy appeared. He sighed heavily.  
  
"Get me up there," he said, sounding resigned. I grinned and levitated him up to his seat.  
  
"Where ya' gonna get a team for this outfit?" asked the toad man.  
  
"I'm going to use the one that the other coach was using in the first place," I said, shrugging.  
  
"No you aren't," he said emphatically. "It'll look horrible with this nice coach 'n all."  
  
"Well, what do you want me to do?" I asked. He rolled his eyes, annoyed that he had to explain everything to me, and said:  
  
"Use the mice."  
  
"What mice?" I asked, looking around, bewildered.  
  
"The mice," he said with exaggerated patience. "Right there." He pointed to a corn stalk a few feet from where I was standing. A whole family of little white mice were scrambling around on it, devouring corn. I smiled, and quickly snatched up two of them. It would be easier to perform this charm in the air.  
  
I flew them up to their proper positions, one of them squeaking indignantly. The other three were silent, one because of terror, one because he was bored, and one because he was entirely interested in the fact that he was floating in the air. I swirled my wand around four times, pointing at them.  
  
Poof!  
  
Four enormous, grand white horses were floating in the air, attached to the carriage with what seemed to be long strips of gold. I smiled. So did the driver.  
  
"I've been meaning to get back at that one," he said with a satisfied look at one of the horses, the one that had, seconds before, been squealing it's head off.  
  
"Don't you dare do anything to upset ANY of them!" I exclaimed. I didn't like the look in his eyes. He touched his cap obediently.  
  
"All right. I'm coming up, but I'm coming invisible, don't let anyone know I'm here."  
  
"Gotcha."  
  
I tapped myself ("Invisaleo") and flew up to sit on the front perch beside the driver.  
  
"They're all so dim," I muttered. "I can't believe they didn't notice us."  
  
"You didn't want them to, did you?" he asked logically.  
  
"No..." I said, puzzled. He made a face at my incompetence.  
  
"If you don't want them to see your magic they don't," he said slowly and carefully.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Can you turn un-invisible once we get going?" he asked. "I feel like I'm talking to the air."  
  
"You are. Only it's solid and talks back," I said. He grinned.  
  
"Can we go now?"  
  
"Yep," I said. He snapped the reigns. The carriage moved forward, still in the air. I decided it wasn't quite impressive enough. I snapped my fingers, and a golden glow surrounded the carriage, making it cast off yellow light.  
  
A woman caught sight of us. She exclaimed something, pointing. One by one, other people saw us as well. A few people shouted in surprise. Lydia was staring, looking shocked. Sylvia looked thoughtful, and Anya was grinning. Cinderella puffed herself up.  
  
"I know who sent this," I heard her say importantly.  
  
"Great," said Anya dismissively.  
  
"It's the same SOURCE," Cinderella said emphatically. "The one I simply CAN'T tell you about."  
  
"Like I said, great."  
  
Cinderella sniffed. I grinned. We were close. I leaned over and whispered:  
  
"Okay. I'm going to bring the carriage down. You inform the ladies it's for them, which I think they already know, but tell them anyways. Sound really important and official." He nodded. I flicked my wand at the horses, and slowly the carriage began to descend to seven feet... four feet... two... there! We landed with a small bump.  
  
Mr. Toad Man stopped the carriage. He stood up, precariously balancing on the fragile footrest below the seat. He bowed, and began speaking in a startlingly cultured voice. Startling for me, at least, as I had just heard him speak in a FAR more casual way.  
  
"Good ladies," he said, touching his cap. "I have been sent to escort your lovely persons to the royal ball. If you will allow your footman to help you in, we will be on our way."  
  
"Thank you," said Lydia cautiously. "But we didn't order the carriage."  
  
"It is a gift, from a source who wishes to remain anonymous," said the driver graciously but firmly. The matter was closed. Lydia hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly. The driver snapped his fingers at the cricket- boy, who jumped down (rather sullenly) and opened the door. He helped Lydia in, then Cinderella, Anya, and Sylvia. Once they were securely inside, he shut the door firmly and hopped back up on his perch. "Clear the way, please!" called the driver. "Clear the way!" People obediently scattered, none wanting to be crushed by the enormous carriage of gold. He sat down, and we took off at a quick and steady pace, until we reached another carriage ahead of us, and had to slow down.  
  
Finally, after nearly a half-an-hour of driving (during which I learned that the driver's name was Tom, he had a wife, about a hundred and fifty children still at home --- too many for me, but for a frog, this was nothing, he explained --- and a pet ladybug, which he sometimes wanted to eat, but his wife was too attached to it). Slowly, the castles many turrets pulled into view. I stiffened nervously. We pulled into the long drive. The front lawns seemed to have been made into an enormous parking lot of grass, where carriages were being directed here and there according to their splendor. We were led to a spot quite close to the front of the castle.  
  
Tom gestured at the cricket-boy, who jumped down and opened the door for the ladies. I played nervously with the hem of my neckline.  
  
"Tell him to keep the door open for a moment," I hissed at Tom. He nodded, and passed the message on. I quickly flew inside as soon as the Fleurs were on their way to the castle, their backs turned, and regained my visibility. I quickly stepped out of the carriage, and with a quick thank you to Tom and the cricket-boy, and hurried after the retreating backs of my client and her stepfamily, into the castle. 


	17. The Ball, Act 1

A/N: Whew! Life is life is life, and life is the prime reason that this has taken so long. That, and I'm a slothful sluggard :-) Enjoy, or don't enjoy, but whatever you do, LEAVE ME A REVIEW!!! Thanks!  
  
*****  
  
Next task, give Cinderella the Grab-Me Glower, and make sure she meets with the prince. Easier said that done, I realized as I entered the crowded ballroom, thousands of scents of perfume assaulting my nostrils. The room was full of swirling skirts, looking like enormous flowers waltzing around the room. Laughter and talk created an endless murmur of noise. Champagne glasses clanked, music soared up to the high golden ceiling, created by a small orchestra, which I could barely see through all the people. The entire kingdom seemed to be in this room. It probably was, I realized, as old and young, male and female, ugly and beautiful moved around in the room as though pulled by various currents.  
  
Rats. In all my wonder and observations, I had lost Cinderella. I was just about to set off looking for her when a hand clasped my shoulder. I whirled around.  
  
"Clarabelle!" I exclaimed, as I recognized my friend and former classmate. "I haven't seen you in ages!"  
  
"I know, I've been so busy," she said, blue eyes widening. "What with this ball and all. I must have supplied at least a quarter of all the dresses in this room." She gave a tinkling laugh, and the lace on her fluffy pink gown ruffled.  
  
"I've only done a few," I laughed, "but I do hope to have the prince engaged by the end of the night. I was assigned to marry this client of mine off to the prince."  
  
"You don't say!" she exclaimed, looking impressed. "You got a job like that on your first assignment?"  
  
"Yes. I got pretty good marks on the Royal Romance class, I suppose that accounts for it."  
  
"Hmm," she said through pursed lips, scrutinizing me through her long black lashes. "So how are you going to do it?"  
  
"Well, I've been working on it for months. I was the one who started all this ball business." I waved my hand around the crowded room.  
  
"Really?" she asked, intrigued.  
  
"Yes." I patted my small handbag that contained my secret weapon. "And now I have to find my client and give her this Grab-Me Glower, it's a useful little dev---"  
  
I was cut off by Clarabelle's sharp intake of breath.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You can't use those!" she exclaimed. "Didn't you read the notice?"  
  
"What notice?" I asked, confused, and starting to feel a little anxious.  
  
"The notice up at the school and all of the agencies and shops."  
  
"No, I haven't been to any of them for a while. What did it say?"  
  
"That no magical match-making devices were to be used at the ball. There's been a whole row over it at the head administration office, didn't you hear? It was on the news!"  
  
"No," I said, feeling my heart sink.  
  
"Well, you can't use them," she said, eyebrows raised in sympathy. "They said that everybody would want to bring them, and with so much romance and puppy love flying through the air, it could get dangerous."  
  
"But..." I fell silent. I was going to fail. That Glower had been what my entire plan was based on, I hadn't done a single other thing to plan for possible romance. It could take months to get them back in the same room (crowded or otherwise), never mind getting them to fall in love.  
  
"Celeste, I'm sorry," she said, reading my expression. She patted my arm, trying to offer some comfort. Her long nails were painted exactly the same shade as her dress. "Come on, let's go get a sip of something, it will make you feel better."  
  
"No, sorry, I can't," I said, my eyes roving about the room. I only had one night to make this work, I told myself, and it WOULD work, whether it wanted to or not. "I'm going to try and salvage this situation. I'll talk to you later."  
  
Clarabelle offered a smile from her perfectly pink lips, and nodded.  
  
"Good luck. Tell me if there's anything I can do to help."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
I moved off into the crowd, desperately trying to find my client. It was difficult, as I was shorter than the majority of the people there. But finally, finally I found her. She was separated from her stepfamily, which was just as well, as I needed to speak with her.  
  
"Cinderella," I called, trying to sound like we were just old friends. She looked around, confusion written on her angelic face. I called again, and waved, and finally she spotted me, gave a small squeal, and rushed toward me.  
  
"Oh, Fairy Godmother!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it is SO go---"  
  
"Shhh!" I hissed. She looked startled, and I quickly pasted on a benevolent smile. "I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean... well, it's just that I'm sort of undercover right now. Nobody is supposed to know that I'm your fairy godmother."  
  
"Ohhhh!" she said, blue eyes widening innocently. "Oh, dear, I am DREADFULLY sorry. I'll try to be quiet about it next time," she promised.  
  
"That's perfectly all right, dear, I just wanted to let you know."  
  
"Oh, all right."  
  
"Now, dear, you're at the ball ---"  
  
"I didn't get my own footman," she announced to me. "It's all right, though. I understand, and I'll generously pretend that nothing is the matter."  
  
"Oh... er... thank you, child," I stammered. Cinderella looked pleased with herself for her unselfishness. I continued. "Dear, I understand that you wish to marry the prince," I attempted. The sapphire eyes widened, and she nodded fervently.  
  
"Oh, can I?" she asked. "Are you going to make him fall in love with me?"  
  
"I... I'm going to try," I said warily. "I'm not going to promise I'll succeed, my power isn't unlimited."  
  
"It's NOT?" she asked. I had stunned her.  
  
"No, dear, it's not. But I will do my best to... make the prince fall in love with you."  
  
"Good. I think all you'll have to do is make him see me, my beauty and charm will do the rest," she said confidently.  
  
"I hope you're right. But first come with me. We're going to add to that beauty." An idea was forming in my head. One of the first things you learn at school is that first impressions are vital, especially when dealing with your average prince. So...  
  
I hurried Cinderella out onto one of the balconies. There were several couples gazing into one another's eyes, and a group of tittering girls. I hurried past them, trying to remain inconspicuous. Cinderella rushed after me, pink skirts billowing.  
  
"Oka --- all right then," I said once we had reached the edge of the balcony. I peered over the edge. It was only about five feet to the gently sloping ground below. I had to get myself and Cinderella over that without anyone noticing. I straightened, and gestured Cinderella over. I said softly, "All right. We're going to have to get over this wall and onto the ground. None of the other people on the balcony can notice us. I'm going to cause a diversion, and I want you to climb over and drop to the ground. I'll be down right after you."  
  
"What--- drop to the...to the.. the GROUND?" she asked, looking terrified.  
  
"Yes, what else would you fall into? There aren't any bushes or bodies of water," I said, rather sharper than I had intended. My voice softened. "Look, sorry, but it's the only way you'll get to marry the prince. If you hang on to the railing, it should only be a couple of inches for you to drop. You're what, 5 feet?"  
  
"Five feet, six inches," she said primly.  
  
"Well, I'm five feet, THREE inches, and I'll be dropping down after you."  
  
"You'll just fly," she said accusingly.  
  
"No I won't. You don't see any wings, do you?" I asked, gesturing to my back, which was completely devoid of any flying mechanism. True, I didn't need them to fly, but Cinderella didn't need to know that.  
  
"What happened to them?" she asked suspiciously.  
  
"I took them off, the dress wouldn't fit with them on. They aren't attached, you know."  
  
"They AREN'T?"  
  
"No." I was getting impatient. I had ONE night to make this work, and here my client was going to jibber on about my wings. She was opening her mouth, and I cut her off before she could get a word out. "Look, I'm going to cause a diversion. I want you over that railing, then I'm going to make the prince fall in love with you. Just do what I say."  
  
"Very well, then," she said, with a properly delicate sigh.  
  
"Thank you. Okay, here we go. Get ready." I pulled my wand out of my purse, where it had been hidden. Luckily it was bendy, it never would have fit inside any other way. This, however, resulted in a nasty little arc in the wood. That's what I got for not spending the money on a magically expanded one, I thought with a grimace.  
  
I tried to bend the wand back to its original shape. It refused to go back, however, and I resigned myself to working with it... a tricky operation. I prayed it would behave, it was usually the little things, like bends or bits of dirt, that made them malfunction. I sighed. "Let's live on the edge, right?" I muttered. Cinderella gave me a confused look, and opened her mouth, but I silenced her with a look.  
  
"Serpentium!" I cried softly, pointing at the group of girls. A small wriggling snake slowly materialized at the feet of one of them. It writhed on the ground, and one of the girls gave a small scream. In but a few seconds, there was pandemonium. I gestured at Cinderella to climb over, and she, face pale, scrambled over, fluffy overskirt growing in size as it caught air. Her golden head disappeared, and I heard a muffled scream as she dropped the inch or two that would bring her to the ground. I started to the wall, I would get rid of the snake as soon as I was reasonably over. Just then a boy darted out onto the balcony, dressed in a white and gold uniform. It was Geoffrey.  
  
He walked quickly over to the girls, muttered a few words to them, and they all froze, looking terrified. He bent down to where the little snake was wiggling on the stone ground, and a few hisses escaped his mouth, and held out a hand to it. It wriggled up onto his palm, and one of the ladies, pale as death, a blonde cloud of hair around her face squealed, and crumpled to the ground in a faint. I caught a look of amusement on Geff's face, then he stood up, still hissing to the snake, who was calm, and walked over to the balcony. With a smile, he dropped it over the railing. It barely missed my head, which was just below view, behind a small stone bench, my hands, which were grasped to the railing amid some roses slipped, and I fell to the ground with a squeak of dismay.  
  
Above me, Geff was grinning. He smiled at the ladies over his shoulder, who began to talk in a very excited sort of way, and waited a moment, after which he swung himself over the railing and onto the ground beside me. He stood quickly, and grinned down at my crumpled heap on the grass. Cinderella was curled up in a ball behind me.  
  
"You could have just climbed over," he said, one eyebrow raised. "No one would have noticed. They're all too enamored with the prince or each other up there," he said with a gesture to the balcony above us.  
  
"Really," I said dryly. "That would have been good to know BEFORE I made the snake."  
  
"Well, he's all right, at any rate," he said. The snake was gone, probably off into the flowers where he could set up peaceful housekeeping. "What are you trying to do?" he asked me. "You HAD to have had a good reason for that."  
  
"I'm trying to get her---" I gestured to Cinderella "---over the balcony so I can make her absolutely stunning, after which we're going back inside."  
  
"Him. Why, exactly? I've seen you hovering around the castle, I guess it has something to do with this ball? You're a fairy godmother, I take it?"  
  
"Yes, I'm a fairy godmother, yes, it has something to do with the ball, and yes, I have been 'hovering around the castle', but how did you know that, I was invisible."  
  
"I have a... this is going to sound horribly clichéd... but I have a..." He grimaced, and continued. "I have a... 'Gift'. Apparently it's a huge deal, I was in the newspaper once, and I was apprenticed to a load of different wizards for a while. That didn't last long," he added with a grin that made me refrain from asking exactly why that was. "Anyways, I can see invisible people, through disguises, lies, that sort of thing. It's kind of useful, but it's also kind of a pain. However, I think I may be of help to you."  
  
"How?"  
  
"You're trying to wed her off to the prince?" he said, with a quick glance at Cinderella. I nodded. "Thought so. She's princess material, that one. Okay. But what are you doing out here?"  
  
I explained my situation as quickly as I could.  
  
"... So now what I'm going to do is make her look like an absolute fairy princess, have her make a spectacular entrance into the ballroom, and hopefully, if all goes well, wedding bells will ring."  
  
"Hmm. Not a bad idea. Make her look as pretty as you can... that ought to work. He's marrying for beauty, I suppose you know that?"  
  
"Shh!" I hissed, pointing my head at Cinderella. "He's marrying for LOVE," I said pointedly. "He'll marry the girl he LOVES the most, RIGHT?" Geff grinned.  
  
"Oh, yeah, right, I forgot. He's marrying for love." Then in an undertone: "Love of the big eyes, straight nose, pouty lips..."  
  
"Shh!" I hissed again. He just smiled.  
  
"So, you're trying to make a spectacular entrance. Okay. You... er... 'beautify' her, I'll be more than happy to help with the rest."  
  
"Thank you," I said. "Stand back, or you may find yourself covered in glitter or something," I added warningly. He quickly backed away from Cinderella and myself, and I ushered her under the balcony, in hopes of not being noticed. She looked extremely nervous.  
  
"Glitzatempa, Rubalip, Blushatanga, Masquerae, Shadou." I chanted, once we had gotten ourselves properly hidden. After each word, a golden spark flew at her and landed on her face, making her flinch. "Beautabone, Perfecta," I added as an afterthought. Those spells didn't always work very well, but with Cinderella, I figured they had a chance. Night was falling fast, however, and I couldn't see her face to confirm my work. We could do that right before we entered the hall, I was sure these spells had worked.  
  
"Okay," I said to Geff, "let's go."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he said, grinning. "Follow me." He headed to a back entryway. "Right through here."  
  
I ushered Cinderella in ahead of me. The doorway was narrow,and she had to smooth her voluminous skirts before she entered it, a look of distaste on her face at the shabby surroundings inside. It was a small room, with a low ceiling, rough-hewn stone walls, and a floor so covered in dust and caked mud that it might as well have been dirt.  
  
"What on EARTH is THIS room for?" Cinderella demanded, nose in the air.  
  
"Nothing," shrugged Geff. "I think it originally was for King Handsome the 15th's pet earthworms. He was a bit eccentric," he said, in response to my incredulous look. "Thought they were really all these profoundly wise creatures who were misunderstood and were really trying to communicate the secrets of the universe with us humans."  
  
"Hmm. Right," I said, arching my eyebrows.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I think. But hey, a king's a king, and they all have their little... ah... 'quirks'. Some more than others."  
  
"Can we PLEASE proceed to the ballroom for my grand ENTRANCE?" Cinderella asked, sounding highly annoyed.  
  
"Of course, milady," said Geoffrey politely. He swept a bow. Cinderella looked smug at the 'milady'. "If you'll just follow me." He strode to the door, and held it for Cinderella and myself. "Looks like you got your hands full with this one," he said in an undertone to me as I passed.  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
We had come out onto a small landing, which had several doors and passageways leading off from it. There was also a staircase off to one side, and Geff led us up it. We emerged in one of the palace's elaborate white and gold hallways, and Geff set down it purposefully. Cinderella had to trot to keep up with him, looking extremely odd with her large gauzy skirts bouncing like a large pink balloon. We didn't pass anyone, which, judging by Geff's expression, was good. He darted through a door on our right, and Cinderella and I followed him into a large room, furnished with sofas, chairs, and portraits. He marched straight through it and into another room of the same sort, through a small white and gold indoor tennis court, and down a long and narrow hall, finally coming to rest in a small room at the end of it, in which a stately old man was checking things off a list. He looked up in surprise as Geff came through, followed my Cinderella and her pink monstrosity, and myself, wisps of hair flying in all directions, having escaped from the knot I had twisted it up into.  
  
"Geff!" the man said sharply. "What, may I ask, are you doing?"  
  
"Saving a bunch of people's tails," said Geff with a grin. "I need your help though."  
  
"You've been dragging these ladies all over the castle, it looks like, and I doubt you're up to any good. Why do you think I'm going to help you?"  
  
"I'll bribe, blackmail, or look really cute, whichever works."  
  
"Oh, really?" asked the man, looking amused. "Well, all right, what do you want?"  
  
"Are you done with the announcing?"  
  
"Yes." He peered suspiciously at Cinderella and at me.  
  
"Good. I want you to announce her." He pointed at Cinderella, who, in spite of all the dashing about, looked even more ravishingly beautiful than normal. My spells had done their job.  
  
"I'm DONE with the announcing, I said, and besides, I don't think she's on the list."  
  
"I know you're done. That's what will make it even better. We want her to get NOTICED. By the prince."  
  
"Ahhh. So you've taken up matchmaking, is it?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"No, SHE'S---" here he pointed at me "---taken up matchmaking, and I like her selection, so I'm helping."  
  
"I see."  
  
"So are you going to help me or not?"  
  
"I'll help. But you're going to make it up to me, aren't you?"  
  
"Of course. One batch of Mother's Triple Divinity Delight is on the way," he said dutifully. I could tell this was a payment regularly delivered.  
  
"Two," the man said with a grin.  
  
"Okay, two. But hurry."  
  
"Follow me." He went through a door opposite the one we had entered in, and we all followed into the hall. The man stepped into a tiny box of a room beside us, and closed the door.  
  
"When he says your name, milady," Geff said in a hurried voice to Cinderella, "you walk out there like a princess. I want you to BE a princess."  
  
"I AM a princess," Cinderella said haughtily, "despite my lowly upper-class birth." I could see a laugh being stifled from Geff, then he contained himself and we waited. The music which had been wafting from the ballroom beyond had stopped suddenly, and even up where we were, there was an expectant hush. Nothing happened. Then the door opened and the man poked his head out.  
  
"What's the name?" he asked, looking embarrassed.  
  
"Erm..." Geff said.  
  
"Cinderella," I supplied.  
  
"Last name?"  
  
"Don't use one. It's not traditional."  
  
"Okay," he said, looking skeptical. The head disappeared, and a moment later, an amplified voice could be heard throughout the ballroom and into the hall.  
  
"Presenting..."  
  
The head was back.  
  
"Title?" he hissed.  
  
"Um... uh... princess," I said quickly. Rats. Maybe that was a little assuming. Better change it... too late. The door was shut again.  
  
"Her Royal Highness Princess Cinderella."  
  
"Go out there, Your Highness," I said to her, giving herself a gentle shove. "Win yourself a prince!"  
  
She tossed back her head, the jewels on the still-perfect curls glinting, then strode from the hall and onto the landing that led to the ballroom, pausing for a moment, as though she were on a stage. I could hear a sudden chorus of whispers in the ballroom, which stopped as Cinderella descended the steps. She was PERFECT.  
  
"Go," Geff said. "Quick. No one will notice you."  
  
And no one did. I walked down the steps, trying to appear invisible, and completely succeeded. The entire room was staring at this beautiful newcomer in amazement. Then, the crowds slowly parted, and His Royal Highness Prince Charming of Arpathia appeared, in a uniform of gleaming white and gold. He stopped before Cinderella, and bowed handsomely.  
  
"Fairest princess," he said. "May I have this dance?"  
  
I beamed, as Cinderella took his hand, and they waltzed onto the dance floor. 


	18. The Ball, Act 2

A/N: Well, well, well. It certainly has been a long time since my last update, hasn't it? Sorry! I've had an incredibly busy summer, and now school is starting, which means I'm going to be very busy for a while. (I have a rather unique school situation, and I'm studying like mad right now!) So updates won't be too frequent for a while, though I will certainly try! Also, I have a few Thank Yous to give out, to a couple of my reviewers: Arwen Telyn --- Thank you one hundred times one hundred for an honest and constructive review! (Esp. when I totally agree with you --- Geff's "Gift" was a bit convenient... but then, I'm making this up as I go along. LOL!) Outlaw Eris --- That was a wonderful review you gave me, it was lovely and long, and I love it when people tell me exactly what they do/don't like. And no, Geff's not getting into romance anytime soon... he's barely 11. Good idea for a sequel, though... no, back, plot bunnies! Back! BACK!!! Hee, hee.  
  
*****  
  
The music was playing, Cinderella and the prince were still dancing, there were still HOURS left to go, and I was floating on air.  
  
Clarabelle and I were standing by the food table, sipping punch out of golden goblets and discussing wedding plans. For we were completely sure there would be a wedding very soon, judging by the way Cinderella and the prince were gazing into one another's eyes. The prince, astonishingly enough, was in such a daze that he had completely forgotten about his hourly costume changes, and it had been several hours since Cinderella had made her grand entrance.  
  
"A long silk train, of course," Clarabelle was saying, "with lots of pearls sewn into it. Shouldn't be too hard to make, I'll help you if you need it. What kind of flowers, do you think?"  
  
"Knowing Cinderella, she'll either choose white lilies or roses. Most likely roses." I bit my lip thoughtfully.  
  
"Mmm-hmm. I think you're right. That will be perfect. I think you'll want to shade the dress to match the flowers, won't you?"  
  
"Definitely."  
  
"What about the crowns?"  
  
"Something big, heavy, and royal for the prince, studded with big pearls, and a lacy gold tiara for Cinderella, also with pearls, and a white gauzy veil attached to the back," I said promptly.  
  
"Any other jewelry? Well, that's a stupid question. WHAT other jewelry?"  
  
"All gold and pearls. Lots of it. I personally would go for just a chain or two, but Cinderella's going to want as much as she can hold up."  
  
"Typical."  
  
"I know. They tend to be like that, don't they?"  
  
"Yes. It's a pity sometimes, but it does make them so much easier to work with, doesn't it? Bribery, that sort of thing."  
  
I nodded my agreement as I took another drink.  
  
"What time is it?" I asked. Hopefully I could get Cinderella out onto the terrace, or the gardens, where it was more romantic. A kiss, maybe a proposal...  
  
"Ten thirty."  
  
"Good. That gives me plenty of time."  
  
"That gives you less than two hours," Clarabelle corrected.  
  
"WHAT?" I exclaimed spewing out a mouthful of the red punch. Several ladies with tall white wigs gave me cold glares. I ignored them, and stared incredulously at Clarabelle. There was something bad going on here...  
  
"Didn't you hear?" she looked surprised. "Where have you been? First you didn't know about the no romantic magic rule, now this!"  
  
"Now what?" I demanded.  
  
"The prince is announcing his choice of a bride at midnight."  
  
"Oh." That was a bit anticlimactic. I didn't know what I had been expecting, now it seemed to me that they would have had to pass a test or something, though I had no idea where that notion came from. Maybe it was Prince Paul and his pea trick that had made the news recently. "I'll be fine," I said, gesturing at the star-struck couple. "They're in love."  
  
"Princes are fickle creatures," she said wisely. "If someone better than her comes along, she'll be tossed aside like a day old cabbage."  
  
"No one is better than Cinderella," I said firmly. "LOOK at her."  
  
"Look at everyone else," Clarabelle said, brushing aside a blonde curl as she gazed around the dance floor. Nothing seemed unusual to me, and I gave her a questioning look. "Look closer," she said. "They're pulling out their ammunition."  
  
I did look closer, and after a moment, saw what she meant. Hopeful mammas were advising their daughters, fixing stray strands of hair, pulling bottles of lip ointment out of their handbags, and I saw that several ladies were sneakily going up the stairs and reappearing moments later looking much more attractive than they formerly had. A thought suddenly struck me, and I whirled around to face Clarabelle.  
  
"They all want the prince!" I exclaimed. Clarabelle looked as though I had just fallen out of the sky.  
  
"No," she gasped, in mock disbelief.  
  
"No, no, don't be stupid. That's not what I meant. I'll bet you anything there are other fairy godmothers helping these girls!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah..." Clarabelle said, looking puzzled.  
  
"I didn't realize that," I wailed. "Mrs. Pearl said she needed to marry a prince, but she didn't mention that other godmothers would be helping other girls with THIS prince! How many are there, do you think?"  
  
"Poor thing. You really are behind, aren't you?" she asked sympathetically. "I heard that about twenty godmothers would be competing here. I thought you knew, everyone else does."  
  
"No!" I wailed.  
  
"Yes. Have another drink," she said, gently taking my goblet from me and refilling it. I swallowed the sweet liquid, concentrating completely on it, so I wouldn't start screaming and running around, hurling curses everywhere. Once it was gone, I set it on the table and pressed my hands against the white tablecloth, took a few deep breaths, then abruptly stood up straight, and swept off to one of the balconies. Clarabelle looked startled for a moment, then scurried after me.  
  
"Celeste!" she scolded, once she was out on the balcony. "Don't do that." The perfume of the roses was overpowering, and the heady smell mixed with the cool air should have calmed me, but I was suddenly far too worked up. I was silent for a moment, then:  
  
"Cinderella is GOING to win," I said dangerously, wheeling on Clarabelle. One of my hairpins flew out of my hair and clattered daintily on the stone floor. "She is GOING to do it. I have my future career, my reputation, and the chance of 50 Nectars resting upon it."  
  
Clarabelle looked puzzled, but said nothing, obviously sensing my mood.  
  
"Cinderella is GOING to win," I said again. "I don't care what it takes."  
  
Clarabelle sighed heavily, then said:  
  
"I'll help you." She squeaked as I suddenly threw my arms around her.  
  
"Will you? Oh, that would be so good! Thank you thank you thank you!" I exclaimed, releasing her. She took a deep breath, then said "Anytime," in a slightly trembling voice. She looked extremely nervous, which was not surprising, considering the two mood swings I had gone through in the last ten minutes. First complete confidence, then total determination, and now I was going into energetic hyperactivity.  
  
"HOW are we going to do it, though?" I said, my mind going a mile a minute. "We could disfigure everyone else, but that would take too much time, and we'd probably get in trouble. We can't enchant the prince to make him obey us, that's illegal. Rats." I paused for a moment, then said in a unintentionally horrible and sappy voice, "What if we knock him out, that way Cinderella can be the one he sees when he wakes up, bathing his forehead with a damp washcloth..."  
  
"Celeste," Clarabelle said, looking as though I had lost my mind. I realized how stupid that sounded, and sighed.  
  
"Well, if I can get Cinderella pretty enough, prettier than all those other girls... maybe if we can get them to kiss, that would be good! And her dress... maybe we could change her dress, he likes costume changes. And more makeup, she needs more makeup! Her hair could be redone, and we could give her a really glittering crown, and more jewelry. I don't have any though ---"  
  
"I have a license to make the temporary stuff," Clarabelle interrupted.  
  
"You do?" I exclaimed, I almost hugged her again, but refrained myself when she started talking.  
  
"It will only last three hours, but that's okay, we only need about two."  
  
"Okay. And what else does she need? Maybe she could give the prince some sort of gift, what does he like the most? Jewels, but I don't have any on me. Maybe he likes sweets? Never mind, that won't work. Cinderella could PROMISE to give him a surprise in a few days, that will give me extra time to worry about it. Now how do we get her without other people swarming him? Or maybe he should be swarmed, that way when Cinderella reappears, she'll be able to outshine them all."  
  
"Sounds great," Clarabelle interrupted when I paused for breath. "Look, let's get started, we can worry about the details when we get to them, okay?"  
  
"Okay," I said on a sharp puff of air. "Where is she?"  
  
"Standing against the wall, waiting for the prince to bring her a glass of champagne."  
  
"Okay. I just have to get her. We can do the work in a closet or something. Should she go back in down the stairs again?"  
  
"No. Two grand entrances in one night is a little tacky."  
  
"Yeah, you're right. Um... let's see... get Cinderella. Right." And I scurried back into the ballroom. I could hear Clarabelle's sigh as I left.  
  
I stopped just inside the small entryway, and my eyes roved the room. I spotted Cinderella on one wall. She wasn't hard to find, that pink puffy skirt certainly stuck out. I tried to catch her eye, but gave up as I realized that she probably wouldn't see me through those thick, demurely lowered eyelashes. So, I marched over to her, grabbed her arm, and dragged her off to the balcony. Clarabelle looked as though she were barely repressing a grin.  
  
"I... umph... I... what... are... you DOING?!" Cinderella said, trying to pull her arm away from me. "You're HURTING me!"  
  
"What? Oh, sorry," I said, as I let go. "Okay, look, all the mothers and other godmothers here---"  
  
"There are MORE of you?" Cinderella asked keenly.  
  
"Yeah, and you'd better stay out of their way, they'll mess you up if they can. You're too strong of competition." She looked puzzled. "You're pretty," I translated with a sigh. "Anyways, you want this prince, and I want you to get him, but there's a lot of girls and mothers and godmothers here that want the same thing, so you're going to have to use all your cards and play hard."  
  
"My cards?" she asked, brow furrowed.  
  
"Make the prince fall in love with you. Throw yourself at him. Take him for a walk in the gardens, get him away from these other girls. I'll follow behind and do what I can to make him fall in love with you, just HURRY! Look, there he is, he's looking for you. Go, take him somewhere private, woo him, and don't let anyone interfere, got it? MY LIFE DEPENDS ON THIS."  
  
Cinderella nodded, looking somewhat nervous.  
  
"Okay... what do you do?" I demanded, pacing up and down in front of her.  
  
"Take the prince to the gardens," she said, concentrating, "and MAKE him fall in love with me."  
  
"Right, hon. YOU've got the power. Go for it!" I pushed her off to the doorway, a little harder than I meant to. She looked back once, and I made a shoving gesture, so she scurried off into the ballroom.  
  
"Okay, Venus, help me out here," I murmured, watching her locate and head for the prince. Upon seeing him, her entire countenance had changed from the little feminine scurry she had been doing before to a docile panther kitten walk, if that could be managed. She looked like an ad for a magical makeover or modeling agency. Hey, that wasn't a bad idea, maybe... no, keep to the task at hand. Go, Cindy, go, I cheered silently. You can do this. She had reached the prince, and was now talking to him. Yes! They were heading out of the gold of the ballroom onto one of the balconies, I could see it from where I was standing. At the moment, it was deserted except for them. And it would stay that way.  
  
I immediately headed for the balcony, skirting the many swaying skirts, and put a quick repellent charm on the archway. Anyone headed for it would immediately have a desire to dance or get a drink or some other activity away from this particular balcony. I quickly left, my own charm having a bit of an effect on me, and quietly went out to another balcony off to the side of theirs, then tapped myself, muttered an Invisibility spell, and flew over to them, landing softly on the smooth stone floor. Those roses were even worse over here. They were standing against the banister, gazing at one another, and I could hear the faintest violin solo in the background. Not what I was hoping for, but if I prodded it just right, I could probably get a whole orchestra going. Maybe. I tiptoed up to them, hoping to get an earful of what they were saying.  
  
"Oh, Prince Charming," Cinderella said, in a disgustingly sappy voice. "You have the most handsome face I have ever been privileged to behold."  
  
"Really?" asked the prince suavely. "Tell me about my face." He turned it slightly so Cinderella could get a better view.  
  
I had to press a fist in my mouth to keep a laugh from bursting out. Cinderella, however, seemed to think this last remark was completely charming and batted her eyelashes up at him.  
  
"Your eyes," she said dreamily, "are the exact color of the most expensive sapphires. You have a lovely handsome nose, straight and noble." I had never heard of a noble nose before. The boogers must be noble too. Noble boogers... that was a thought.  
  
"Your lips," she went on, gazing at them, "are perfectly full and pink, and look like they would be very soft and nice to kiss..." She blinked at him, trying to convey the message. He obviously didn't get it.  
  
"What about my hair?" he asked pompously. "My hair must be magnificent as well."  
  
"Of course, it is, Your Majesty. It looks like it was spun from gold, and it is so shiny and smooth."  
  
"What about my clothes? I have excellent taste in clothing, do I not?"  
  
"Oh, Majesty, you do! I've never seen such fine..." I stopped listening, this was getting me nowhere.  
  
A distraction from this self-esteem session would be most useful. The gardens was what I had mentioned earlier to her... I just had to get her to the gardens. They weren't far away, just a few yards away from the balcony. But there we no stairs down, and even if I managed to conjure some up without them noticing, I'd never get them down there without them seeing me.  
  
I slumped down onto a bench. This was never going to work. I had tried, and I was just no good at this improvisational stuff, I just ran out of ideas too quickly. My eyes were suddenly burning, and I felt exhausted. I closed them tightly for a moment, then sighed and slouched down, leaning against the roses covering the balcony. A thorn pricked me in the back, and I leapt forward, scowling.  
  
"Don't make that awful expression, dear," said a very loud female voice directly on my right. "It completely ruins your face, it's so unpleasant. And never lean against roses, they almost always have thorns, and thorns hurt, as a rule." I spun around to face her.  
  
A tall, positively dazzling woman was sitting on the bench next to me, though I hadn't the faintest idea where she had come from. She was wearing a strange rose and gold garment made from one piece of fabric, with only thin twisted straps for sleeves, and several necklaces of long gold beads and pink gems. Her hair, a beautiful gold, was twisted up and curled, and light seemed to radiate from her incredibly gorgeous face.  
  
"Who are you?" I asked, after staring stupidly for a moment. She laughed lightly.  
  
"I'm Aphrodite, also known as Venus and the Goddess of Love. You called on me a moment ago, did you not?"  
  
"I... what?" I stammered, rather loudly. I clapped a hand to my mouth, startled by the volume of my voice, but Cinderella and Charming hadn't heard me, or at any rate didn't turn around.  
  
But APHRODITE?!  
  
"Yes. You said something along the lines of 'Okay, Venus, help me out here'. Not the usual form for pleas for help, but nevertheless effective," she said with a wry smile.  
  
"You have GOT to be kidding," I said after a moment of stunned silence.  
  
"No, I'm not. If you don't really want my help, I'll be more than happy to mingle about here..." she said, eyebrows raised.  
  
"No, no, no, that's okay," I said very quickly. "I would LOVE your help."  
  
"That's what I thought," she said silkily. Then she turned businesslike. "Now, these two are soulmates, I can tell that just by looking at them. You wanted them into the flower gardens down there?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Very well." She turned to a corner of the balcony (the side which looked out over the flower gardens) and stared at it for a moment. I didn't notice any change, but she sat back, looking satisfied. I shot a puzzled look at her.  
  
"Go look," she said. I tiptoed over to the place she had been staring at, and saw, to my surprise, that part of the formerly firm railing had turned into a small gate, covered with roses to fit in with the rest. Below it, a long, elegantly sweeping staircase led straight down over a hedge into the gardens. I clapped my hands together.  
  
"It's perfect!"  
  
"What else did you expect?" she asked with a glittering smile. "Now, I must go, but I have a little something for you to use." She reached into her dress and pulled out a small bow and pocket of arrows.  
  
"These," she said, handing them to me, "belong to Cupid. You have permission to use them until midnight tonight, then they must be returned. He'll take care of that, they'll just disappear, so you needn't worry about it.  
  
"Now, you have about 45 minutes left... make the best use of your time. Good luck!"  
  
And before I could offer a word of thanks, she was gone. I blinked, and looked down at the bow in my hands. She was real, now I had to... what did I have to do? Lure them down the stairs into the garden, then figure out how this bow worked. All right.  
  
I stood, and with my course of action firmly in mind, set about briskly to make Cinderella's... and of course, my... dreams come true. I snapped my fingers once, and out of nowhere, a huge gust of wind came flying past the prince and Cinderella. Her skirts swirled around her, and a few of her glittering hairthings flew out of her curls.  
  
"Oh!" she exclaimed in a high, delicate voice. The prince --- oh joy --- wrapped his arms around her to protect her from the wind. It died down, and he released her.  
  
"Goodness!" she said.  
  
"We ought to get off this balcony," the prince said. "There may be another big breeze, and I don't want it to mess up my hair again."  
  
"Of course, Highness. That is a truly wonderful idea."  
  
"Like most of mine," he said modestly. "Come." He started towards the ballroom, but Cinderella stopped him.  
  
"Let's go down into the gardens!" she said quickly. The eyelashes lowered again. "That is, if you don't mind, Highness. I simply wish to view your flowers, as I am sure they are the most beautiful in the whole of Arpathia!"  
  
"Indeed they are. That is an excellent idea, milady. In fact, I shall be so kind as to GIVE you a flower!"  
  
"Truly, Highness? Oh, you are SO generous!"  
  
"I know. Come, down these stairs," he said, turning to the ones Venus had conjured a moment before. "I wonder which of my many servants was so good as to order these stairs put in, the other balconies don't have them," he added. "Though all of my servants are thoughtful. You can't HELP being thoughtful for a man like me."  
  
"No, indeed, sire! You are surely the ep... epi.... epitimininny of perfection!"  
  
I snorted silently. Epitimininny! But the prince as looking like he was impressed with her knowledge of such a large word, even if it wasn't actually a word.  
  
"I suppose I am. No, I KNOW I am!" he said with a laugh, as though this were some witty joke. I didn't see the humor. "Let us go down, my love, and I shall show you my flowers. You are sure to be impressed."  
  
"Indeed I shall be," agreed Cinderella with a ladylike sigh.  
  
So the prince led her down into the gardens. They were a pretty sight, Cinderella sweeping down the elegant stairs, glittering like an enormous pink rose, on the prince's arm, his hair shining in the light from the ballroom above. I realized there was little light down in the gardens, only a few dim lanterns hanging on curved poles, and I flew past them all and added some brightness.  
  
There was a large fountain in the first garden, a sort of courtyard enclosed in hedges. Flowers were planted in beds all along the hedges, and bits of moss grew up in between the cracks of the large flat stones that made up the floor.  
  
"I don't like this moss," Charming said once they were down in the garden, pointing at it. "But my head gardener said I should keep it since it looks rustic. What do you think?"  
  
Cinderella was silent. She obviously couldn't think of what the most pleasing answer would be.  
  
"If you say you don't like it," said the prince, "I shall have it removed at once. If you do, I shall be noble and keep it, sacrificing my own desires for yours, which is the princely thing to do."  
  
"I think it's... good," said Cinderella in a voice of mixed flirtation and uncertainty. "You may do the princely thing."  
  
"Very well, my lady," said Charming grandly. "I shall!"  
  
Then they were off strolling around the garden, the prince pointing out every flower, telling her all about how this one would only grow for a royal, how that one was imported from Dorelman, and was very expensive. Cinderella was the perfect princess, listening and gazing at the prince with adoring eyes. He, in turn, seemed infatuated with her. And I... I was bored out of my wits.  
  
I tried to mentally communicate with Cinderella. Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. But it didn't work, of course.  
  
But I had Cupid's Bow. If I could figure out how to use it. I thought back to pictures I had seen, never having actually done archery myself. The arrows went up against the wood and leaned against the string, then you just let go and it would hit the target. So I mimicked the pose, took careful aim, and fired. The arrow dropped to the ground with a clatter. Just lovely. But if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.  
  
Or more appropriately, I thought after the fifth try, you need to try and try and try and try and try and try again. So I did. On the seventh try the arrow actually flew, hitting a marble statue of some half-naked sprite. On the tenth try, the arrow actually got to the prince's feet. The eleventh flew over the hedges into who knew where, and at the thirteenth try, I was ready to give up. One last shot, then I was reappearing and threatening them both with major curses until I got an official engagement.  
  
I took careful aim, and to my enormous surprise and satisfaction, the arrow flew straight and true.  
  
Straight into the prince's heart. 


	19. The Ball, Act 3

A/N: Yessiree (oops, sorry... simpleton phrase there... see below...) I am back. And I'm promptly leaving again until next month, as I am participating in NaNoWriMo, and will have NO free time for the entire month of November. (For information on NaNoWriMo, check out www.nanowrimo.org... it's looking pretty awesome.) And then, I shall return, so have no fear, faithful readers. (And I know there are faithful readers b/c these faithful readers have been faithfully reviewing... YOU ROCK!) And now, please return to your seats, turn off all pagers and cell phones, and enjoy the chapter. And, most importantly, REVIEW!!! Many thanks! *lights dim...*  
  
***  
  
The arrow disappeared completely, and I waited with baited breath to see the effects. At first, I thought there were none. Then I saw a confused look come over the prince's face, and he stared blankly at the back of Cinderella's head (she had turned to look at a rare blossom he had pointed out). But then she turned around, and I knew immediately the plan had worked. His eyes connected with hers and he gazed at her for a moment. She seemed politely puzzled, until he took her hand in his and abruptly started waltzing around the garden with her. She quickly caught on, and got the rhythm of the waltz that was pouring down from the balcony into the gardens. They swept around the balcony together, looking positively radiant. I forgot, for a moment their characters, and felt rather like I had been transported to the set of a romantic film or play . Cinderella's hair and jewelry glittered and her dress didn't look so imposing. More like a flower just burst into bloom. The prince's hair glinted, as did his badges and gold trim. I smiled contentedly to myself. The smile grew when I saw them stop at the end of the number, and watched the prince bend down to give her a rather prolonged kiss on the lips.  
  
I had won.  
  
*****  
  
The clock chimed midnight.  
  
"Noble and fair citizens of Arpathia," boomed the voice of one of the royal heralders from a platform at one end of the room, next to the thrones where the aging kind and queen sat. The entire room tensed. "The time has come for our beloved Crown Prince Charming to announce his choice of a bride! As you all know, the purpose of this ball tonight was to select a maiden worthy of our prince, our brave, valiant, courageous, fearless..."  
  
He then went on to list every synonym in the dictionary for "brave." After that he moved onto the synonyms for "attractive," "kind," "majestic," "royal," "perfect," and "magnificent." I almost fell asleep.  
  
Cinderella and the prince were both hidden behind a large sweeping gold curtain against one wall. There was a room behind it where Cinderella and the prince were standing in a perfect pose under a golden spotlight. Arpathian nobility love grand entrances of all shapes and sizes, and this one would certainly appeal, I knew. I was standing in the crowd, visible once more, Clarabelle next to me grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"His Majesty will now make a speech," the heralder announced. The king stood, hunched over in his many heavy robes and badges.  
  
"People of Arpathia!" he said in a deep, loud, and rather wheezy voice. "I have not yet met this maiden who shall be your princess. But I trust my magnanimous son's judgment! Yessiree, indeed I do!" He said emphatically. A sharp voice came from behind him.  
  
"What have I told you," the queen hissed, "about saying simpleton phrases like 'yessiree'? Don't do that again!"  
  
The king ignored her.  
  
"As I was saying," he went on, even louder than before, "I don't know who this maiden is. But I know my son will have picked out the most worthy maiden of all of you here. I, personally, am rooting for Lady Alianora." He looked about the room, then waved a bit in my general direction. "No, no, she's back there! Never mind!" A regal-looking young woman about ten feet to my left blushed.  
  
"Will you get to the point?" the queen snapped, her voice carrying clearly.  
  
"I'm GETTING there!" said the king, turning around to face her. He turned back around. "Hmph! Women!" he muttered, the sound just barely reaching me. I smiled.  
  
"ANYWAY," the king went on, "the prince's judgment is pretty good, so his bride's okay. Got that? Good." He sat back down, and there was a brief silence.  
  
"Well OPEN the curtain, already!" the king yelled after a moment. The queen jumped, hissed something at him, and then the curtains were drawn open, revealing an absolute picture of perfection. Sharp intakes of breath were heard from every direction, and even Clarabelle mouthed a soft "Wow."  
  
Glitter was raining down in a golden beam of light. Beyond, all was shadows and darkness, though I could tell that the room they were in was all gold. Cinderella's hand rested lightly on the prince's arm, and her exceptionally beautiful face was radiant. He was looking down at her tenderly. It seemed as though he hadn't even realized the curtain had been opened. If he had, he certainly would have been playing to the audience. I heard soft voices a few layers of people behind me. Turning slightly and glancing inconspicuously in back of me, I saw Anya and Sylvia whispering very fast to each other. Sylvia's suitor, the one I had seen walking her home, was standing next to her. He looked as though he wasn't very surprised, in fact he seemed to be enjoying this immensely.  
  
"But she couldn't have... how'd that happen, I mean she danced with him, sure, and that grand entrance thing, but then she disappeared and he started dancing with that snobby-looking princess from who knows where!" Anya was whispering, looking stunned.  
  
"I know," Sylvia hissed, "she must've gotten back with him. He did disappear for a while, but... I don't know, there's something fishy going on, I can feel it."  
  
"You feel like everything's fishy," whispered Anya.  
  
"I do not!"  
  
"Yes you do. Anyway, how'd that happen? And how on earth is Mother going to react? I don't see her anywhere. Are Cinderella and the prince actually going to get MARRIED? I mean, they can't, she's only 15!"  
  
"True, but that's the prince. He'll have whoever he wants, and besides, it's not as if I'll be that sad to have her married to him."  
  
"Yeah, until she orders us imprisoned for unfair treatment to one of that 'inner royal lineage,' she's always going on about," said Anya derisively. Sylvia rolled her eyes.  
  
"Oh, come on, you're being dense. She's not going to imprison us, she won't have the time! She'll be too busy re-decorating the palace, for heaven's sake."  
  
"That's true. What a lovely thought. Just imagine... no whining, moaning, complaining, ruining everything she cooks, I'll have my room back, this is brilliant."  
  
"Don't count your chickens before they hatch," Sylvia cautioned immediately, watching the scene before us with a suddenly critical eye.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" asked Anya, looking annoyed. "You just said..."  
  
"Never mind what I just said, look, the prince is about to speak!"  
  
Anya fell silent and turned to look at the front, as did I. Sometime during Anya and Sylvia's whisperings, the prince and Cinderella had stepped forward and the curtain had closed.  
  
"Noble and not-so-noble subjects of Arpathia," the prince said grandly. "I have taken great care in selecting a bride. She will become a princess, and will one day be your queen, so of course I had to choose well, keeping in mind each and every one of your opinions, even those of you whose opinions don't really matter! And behold, I have found the perfect maiden. Lady Cinderella of Arianda, Arpathia!"  
  
There was enthusiastic applause, but I could hear a strong undercurrent of mutterings. I couldn't tell whether they were friendly or not.  
  
"Is she not a rose most fair?" continued the prince once the applause had died down. "Is her beauty not above every maiden in this hall tonight? Some more than others, of course, but, I do believe --- and, of course, am correct --- that she is above each and every one of you!" He bowed, and backed away. There was a thin scattering of applause, a few giggles, and several very offended looks. A pair of exasperated sighs that ruffled my hair came from behind me. I could tell you who they came from in three guesses or less.  
  
"The wedding will be within the next year," said the king. "You'll all get invitations. You can go home now." The queen hissed something at him.  
  
"Or you can stay and dance, whatever," he said with a monumentous eyeroll that I felt sure he had been practicing for years.  
  
The crowd gradually broke up and drifted off, some to corners of the ballroom, some to the balconies, some --- most of whom were sobbing uncontrollably --- out the door. I went to find Cinderella and offer my formal congratulations.  
  
The moment she saw me, her enormous eyes batted and she threw her arms around my neck. I patted her back gingerly.  
  
"My love," said the prince pompously, looking down his nose at me, "ought you to be embracing this woman?"  
  
"Of course!" exclaimed Cinderella. "She's my f---"  
  
"Godmother," I cut in smoothly.  
  
"My---" Cinderella tried again.  
  
"Favorite godmother, I know," I said with a laugh and a meaningful look.  
  
"Oh, of course," said the prince graciously, nodding and sweeping me a bow. Cinderella's eyes widened. She had caught on.  
  
"Yes, this is my favorite godmother in the whole world!" she said enthusiastically. "Honey buns, this is..." She shot me a confused look.  
  
"Celestina Shimmers," I said quickly. I wasn't being exactly truthful, of course, but I couldn't have the prince looking up my name and discovering I was a FAIRY godmother. That wouldn't do at all. "I'm visiting from Brema." There. Now I wasn't even one of his subjects. Not that princes had much power in Arpathia, there were too many of them, but they could get annoying, boasting about their powers over you and such, as my grandmother (an accomplished fairy godmother herself) knew quite well. Prince Marvelous, Waker of Sleeping Princesses and Supreme Ruler of the Universe, indeed!  
  
"I am quite pleased to meet you," said the prince politely. His interest had seemed to drop once I had said I was from Brema. I smiled and turned back to Cinderella.  
  
"I must be leaving shortly, dear, but I'll come and see you tomorrow. Be on the lookout for me, won't you?"  
  
"Of course! Charmykins says I can stay at the palace until we get married! I get my own whole suite, with servants!"  
  
"Oh, that's simply marvelous, dear!" I exclaimed, loading my voice with syrup. "Well, I'll come here tomorrow. Bye, dear. Good-bye, Your Highness."  
  
"Goodbye!" said Cinderella, waving daintily. The effect was ruined by the fact that I was only two feet in front of her. The prince said nothing, and she elbowed him.  
  
"Uh... oh, yes, indeed," he said, "bye."  
  
I gave a smile and melted back into the crowd, then made my way out into the hall and to the door.  
  
Success.  
  
Sweet, beautiful, SUCCESS!  
  
***  
  
Further A/N: Yes, it was a bit short, sorry... but it's not the end! Unless you're so sick of the story you want to pretend this is the end and run off to read something else. That's cool. Just review before you go! Constructiveness is always good... and if your mind is a total bland and you need help, answer me any one of these, or all if you're feeling especially charitable.  
Are there any Mary Sues or Gary Stues (flat, perfect characters); is any part of the story going too fast or too slow; is there anything in the story that's very boring and/or repetitive; is the story too cliched; has my writing improved any since chapter one (I'm praying the answer is yes...); how can I improve the writing/plot/characters, etc. further; etc. etc.  
Thanks a hundred million trillion bazillion! You are all the most wonderful things to ever occur on ff.n! 


	20. Don't Count Your Chickens, er, Nectars

A/N: Yeah, I know I said I wasn't going to update until NaNoWriMo was over, but then I realized that working on this story was quite good practice for getting the feel of the word count and stuff. After all, as C.L. Rhodes pointed out, this story has been almost a year in the making. So here's another chapter, enjoy, read, review, you know the drill. Many thanks, and Cheetos to whoever gives a constructive review, whether positive or otherwise. And many, many thank yous to everyone who reviewed the last chapter/s. (Last I checked, I had 93, which is so amazing to me...) You are all simply WONDERFUL!!!  
  
**********  
  
The night air was crisp and cool. That was a very good thing, as it helped to calm my giddiness. And I was certainly giddy.  
  
I had done it. This thing was in the bag! I had aced this first test, I would get a job with a GREAT agency, and last but not least, win those 50 Nectars in the betting jar! What a wonderful situation.  
  
The lawn was still mostly full of carriages, and there were people milling around many of them. I would have to get invisible before I took off, then. All I wanted at the moment was to go home, get some sleep, and report to Mrs. Pearl first thing in the morning.  
  
I made my way over to the carriage I had transformed. It was by far the grandest coach there, the gold glinting in the light from the many torches placed around the makeshift parking lot and the light from the castle windows. I slipped in between it and the neighboring one, a gaudy pink affair, trimmed with ribbons and lace in the most atrocious manner. I ducked down, made sure I wasn't visible, and pulled my wand out.  
  
"Psst!"  
  
I started, and looked around. There was no one there. I turned my attention back to the wand.  
  
"Psst!" it came again. "Hey, you!"  
  
"Who is it?" I asked, glancing around again. "You talking to me?" I stood up.  
  
"YES, I'm talking to you," a voice said directly into my right ear. I spun around. A face was looking out at me from glass-less carriage window. It was the toad-driver.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Firstly, I hope you're planning on changing me and Jimmy here back," he said, "and secondly, I hope you're going to do it soon, 'cause you're in trouble and I don't want to come into it with you."  
  
"What? Why?" I asked. What was he thinking? Of course I wasn't in trouble. I was a godmother extraordinaire!  
  
"I dunno, but from what I got you're off to jail, and before you go I'd like very much to be in my proper shape and back home. I have a family to support!"  
  
"Ha, ha, very funny."  
  
"I'm serious," he said. He looked it.  
  
"Why?" I asked, feeling my euphoric cloud slowly evaporating and leaving me with a whole lot of trouble and a toad that wouldn't tell me what was going on. "Who are you talking about?"  
  
"I don't know who they are," he said, "they sure ain't the Arpathian police force. They're little and wearing sparkles and all that rubbish."  
  
"They're little and sparkly," I said. "That doesn't tell me much." He shrugged.  
  
"I'VE never seen them before. But I'm no fairy, maybe you'll recognize them."  
  
"I'm not a fairy," I corrected. "I'm a fairy godmother. They're two entirely diff---"  
  
"Okay," he said cutting me off. "Fairy godmother. And trust me, fairy godmother, you're in trouble."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Don't ask me. I'd just appreciate it if you'd---"  
  
He stopped suddenly. I glanced down to where he was suddenly looking, and I knew at once what he'd meant when he said "little and wearing sparkles."  
  
A little elf was standing behind my skirt, hands behind his back, tottering on the balls of his feet. He came about up to my knee, but was more noticeable than any human being I had ever seen, due to the... well, I wasn't sure if it counted as am outfit or not.  
  
Glitter. Sparkles. Lace. Ribbons. Gold. Silver. Every other kind of Traditionally Appropriate Glinting Metal as specified in the 'Arpathian Customs in Dress' handbook, a necessary reading assignment in every school across the country. Bows. Frills. Everything in a different clashing color. And it was all stuck higgledy-piggeldy onto two feet of shapeless jumpsuit. A golden badge, enormous but hardly noticeable for the froof-a-noof surrounding it, adorned his chest, reading 'Police Backup'.  
  
"You are Miss Celeste Shimmerstar?" he said in a nasally and clipped voice.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Address me as 'sir'," he said, looking disgusted.  
  
"Yes, SIR. That's me."  
  
"You are under arrest," he said shortly. "Follow me."  
  
He turned to go. I shot an incredulous look at both the toad-driver and the back of the elf's head. I was supposed to take THAT uniform seriously. Right...  
  
"HOLD it," I said. He stopped as though he had run into a wall, set his shoulders, and spun around to face me, a look of grim determination on his oddly mischievous looking face.  
  
"What." He looked highly irritated.  
  
"Might I ask why I'm being arrested?" I asked cordially. "I mean, it's not a situation I make a habit of getting into, I don't really know the procedure."  
  
"Blatant disregard for Arpathian Magical Society, Subsection 12: Godmothering LAWS." He shot a death glare. It almost looked like he meant it, but with the lace sticking up from his collar like a ruff I couldn't quite tell.  
  
"What laws?" I asked. "I made a special effort NOT to break any."  
  
"The Official Arpathian Law Book, Section 243, Arpathian Godmother's Auxiliary, law 23, stating that at any given time the Arpathian Godmother's Council retains the right to make and enforce certain laws, on the condition that the Arpathian Godmothering population has at least 72 hours advance notice, said notice being given by the posting of the law upon all public bulletin boards and the like, and-slash-or being broadcast on a daily basis on the Godmother run and-slash-or owned television and radio stations. The law you broke was the most recently approved temporary law, stating that no fairy godperson may use Lovemagic at His Royal Highness Prince Charming of Arpathia's royal ball, on this day. No fairy godperson may use others to direct Lovemagic at anyone at this ball. You have done one of these."  
  
"How do you know?" I asked indignantly. I hadn't used magic, so why on earth was this bizarre little messenger from Sparkleland here scowling and reciting laws for me?  
  
"Effective love-inducing magic was detected on these premises at 10:52 p.m. Standard Arpathian Time. The means are unknown, but the source was traced directly to you, and the prince and a Miss Cinderella Fleur were involved. May we go, now?"  
  
"No. I didn't use ANY love-inducing magic. I was GOING to, but then I heard it was outlawed and hold on a second RATS!"  
  
He looked scornful.  
  
"You did use Lovemagic then?"  
  
"I... I... well, I don't know. I did but it was okay, I thought, because Venus gave it to me,"  
  
"Excuse me?" he asked flatly in that nasal tone. "Who gave you what?"  
  
"Venus gave me Cupid's Bow," I explained. The elf's face remained disgusted and condescending above the glitter.  
  
"Venus?"  
  
"Yes, Venus." His expression didn't change. "You know, VENUS. APHRODITE. THE ANCIENT ROMAN GODDESS OF LOVE."  
  
"I'm sure. Save it for the press."  
  
"You... no, no, look, I've got it here, I'll show you!" I reached into my sash where I had stuffed the bow as soon as I had finished with it. It wasn't there. "Drat. What time is it?"  
  
"It is 12:43 a.m."  
  
"Rats, rats, RATS!" I exclaimed, feeling a strong desire to tear out my hair in annoyance at this fellow. "It's gone, she said Cupid would come and collect it at midnight!"  
  
"I see."  
  
"I'm telling you the truth!" I exclaimed. "Look, just ask her! Of course, I haven't the faintest notion of how to DO that... yes I do, give me a sec."  
  
"One minute." He glanced down at a heavily jeweled pocket watch. "Starting...now."  
  
I hesitated a second. This little guy was nuts. But oh, well, I'd just have to ignore him.  
  
"Venus," I said loudly and clearly. Nothing happened. "Venus!" I repeated. "Venus, I need your help here, please." The night air remained still and quiet.  
  
"Thirty seconds," the elf intoned.  
  
"Venus, I would really appreciate it if you'd beam down right about now," I said to the sky. Nothing. The stars twinkled down at me, completely oblivious to the fact that I was about to be carted off to fairy prison by a two-foot tall grump.  
  
"Ten seconds."  
  
"VENUS. HELP. ME. PLEASE."  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Five seconds."  
  
I gave it one last try. "VENUS!"  
  
A old lady passing by gave me an odd look, but there was no glow, no pop, no shower of glitter, and certainly no Venus.  
  
"Time's up," said the elf in a smug tone. "Follow me, please."  
  
"Hang on."  
  
He sighed loudly. "I will not 'hang on', as you put it. I will leave, now, and you will come with me."  
  
"Of course. The only problem being that I could squash you with the heel of my boot," I said sarcastically. Bad move.  
  
"I wouldn't suggest you try," he said coolly, and snapped his fingers. Some invisible presence scooped me up and dumped me into what felt like and invisible armchair, floating three feet off the ground. The elf turned smartly around, and marched forward. My seat followed him, floating up and over any carriages we encountered. No one seemed to notice us. I tried to climb off, and found I couldn't move. I tried to fly off to no avail, and when I attempted to use my wand, it let out a puff of foul-smelling green smoke and gave high-pitched shriek.  
  
I slumped down. This was jolly.  
  
A distant shout carried over to where I was floating along over a hot pink carriage.  
  
"You didn't change us back! My wife's going to..." then it faded out.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I sat in my cell, gazing glumly at the gold-painted bars. The cell I was in was rather nice... what you'd expect for a fairy. Or more accurately, fairy godmother --- the actual fairies were on another floor entirely. There was a fluffy pink rug on the floor, a pink and gold cot with a pink silk comforter, and a delicate, spindly golden chair. But it was still a prison cell, and I would still much rather be at home, instead of sitting here and cursing Venus and Cupid and Cinderella and my rotten, rotten luck.  
  
I wanted my wand back. They had taken it away "for inspection." More likely so I wouldn't escape, as there was no reason why I should be here, there was no reason why I shouldn't be let out, how was I supposed to know that magical help from the authentic Venus wasn't allowed! Honestly!  
  
But for the moment, I was stuck, I was bored, I was irritated, and I had no coping food on hand. Lovely, simply LOVELY.  
  
"You have a vi-sitor!" sang out a cheerful voice. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at its source as she came into view. She was a short, fat little woman, in a lavender dress and frilly apron with a lace-edged nametag reading "Millie Boot," her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, and she was always wearing an enormous, eternally cheerful smile that was very irritating given my circumstances.  
  
"You've got a visitor!" she repeated happily. "Aren't you lucky? My children LOVE it when we get visitors! There are SO many of them, you know, so all their friends are coming over all the time, of course. I think they just like our house, it's rather unique, you know?" she said, bustling around outside the cell. I had already heard about her house --- an enormous shoe --- which housed so many children she "just didn't know what to do with them all, bless them!" I had also heard about her husband, her pet goat, her neighbors up to three houses down on one side and five on the other, her mother-in-law, her famous pumpkin pie recipe, and her vegetable garden.  
  
"Now, let's see... where's the paper... yes, here it is! You can have visitors at this hour, I thought you could! It's quite early in the morning, you know, I think it's five o' clock. Or maybe it's six. Who knows. Anyway, you DO have a visitor, and I think she may be here to get you out. What did you get arrested for, anyway? I heard it had something to do with the ball. Malcolm didn't say much, he's not really the talkative type, as you've probably noticed. Kind of grumpy, to tell you the truth. I've never seen him smile. Anyway, I think I may have just possibly run off the subject, and I think that your guest wants to see you. So." And she was out of the room, taking the papers with her.  
  
A moment later, she came bustling back in, Mrs. Pearl right behind her. She looked rather serene and unworried.  
  
"Here you are, Amelia Pearl, says she knows you, and I'm guessing she probably does since she's visiting you!" Mrs. Boot laughed loudly, and Mrs. Pearl smiled good-naturedly.  
  
"Well! I'll be off then, call me if you need me, I'll just be outside, there's another godmother I need to attend to, got caught going to Jajabon to give some princess a bunch of stories she wasn't supposed to have, Shaharazad, I think her name was. I'll be needing to give her some paperwork to sign and all that, promises she won't meddle in stuff like that anymore, you know how it is. Really, you'd think the princess could just go to the library or something..." and she walked off still talking. Mrs. Pearl waited until she was out the door before conjuring a fluffy purple pouf and settling herself down comfortably on it, outside the golden bars.  
  
"Well," she said, almost cheerfully.  
  
"Hi," I said glumly, trying to force down a sense of guilt that had just risen in my stomach. Mrs. Pearl was probably going to get some bad mark on her job or something because of me.  
  
"You look grumpy," she observed, poking around in her purple handbag. She pulled out some brightly wrapped chocolates. "Here," she said, offering me one. "This should cheer you up a bit, they're quite good. Imported from the north, they make really excellent candy up there."  
  
I took it, unwrapped it, and popped it in my mouth. She was right, it did cheer you up.  
  
"There," she said, smiling. "That's better, isn't it? Of course it is. So, what seems to be the problem?" "I'm assuming that you're talking about what's the problem aside from the fact that I'm in jail?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm. All I could get from that elf and Mrs. Boot is that you used Lovemagic at the ball."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What kind? I mean, what did you do?"  
  
"The prince and Cinderella were getting along great but I wanted to speed things up and make it a little more concrete and I accidentally called Venus, you know, the Goddess of Love, down and she gave me Cupid's Bow and I used it and it worked only I got in trouble with the law apparently even though I didn't know it would count if Venus was on your side," I said in one breath.  
  
"Venus?" There was an odd expression on Mrs. Pearl's face.  
  
"YES, Venus. I know you don't believe me but ---" Mrs. Pearl held up a hand to stop me.  
  
"No, no, no, of course I believe you, she does that every now and then. I TOLD her to stop helping the new recruits, but of course she doesn't listen. She's a GODDESS, she doesn't have to obey mere mortals!" she said sarcastically, looking rather miffed. "I'm going to have a word with Zeus about her, he really needs to keep his clan under control, she can't just come billowing down here whenever someone accidentally calls her!"  
  
"You know Zeus?" I asked, rather amazed.  
  
"Of course I know Zeus. I knew him at school. Of course he was MUCH older than I was, but the nondenominational academy I went to after getting my degree at the academy to become a godmother accepted people of all ages. We were both in Introduction to Wizardry, I believe it was. I haven't seen him in AGES. Well, anyway, we will need to go speak with him and Venus. This is her fault ---"  
  
"But I used the Bow," I protested.  
  
"No it's not, you didn't know any better. SHE does, however, and I'm going to make sure she doesn't do that again. You're the fourth... no, fifth, one to be sent to prison over her 'helping' in the past seven years, I think that's quite enough. Well, anyway, we'll deal with that later. First, tell me exactly how you called her down."  
  
"I just said 'Venus, help me out here,' but I didn't really MEAN it!"  
  
"No, I know you didn't. So does she, that's what's bothering me. We'll have to both go up and talk to her. Goodness, she can be so vexing at times!"  
  
"You mean you're actually going up to Mount Olympus?" I asked, impressed.  
  
"No," she said. "WE are."  
  
"You're taking me with you?" This was very cool.  
  
"Of course I'm taking you with me," she said impatiently. "You're the one who's in jail over it, aren't you?"  
  
"Well... yes, obviously, but ---"  
  
"Then it's settled. We'll leave... well, probably tomorrow evening, I think it will take about half a day to get you out of here, they've got all this paperwork and I'll have to convince them that you should get let off without bail and without a trial. Definitely not a trial, they take MONTHS. You would think with all the magic we've got, it wouldn't take us so dad- blamed long. But, well... I'm not in charge of all that --- thank goodness --- so I shouldn't criticize too loudly. And I think you also need some sleep, you look positively lethargic."  
  
"Yeah," I said ruefully. "Staying up until midnight under extreme stress and being thrown in jail by an elf in the weirdest uniform in the history of man- and elf- kind can do that to you.  
  
Mrs. Pearl laughed. "I'll have to agree with you on that score. Well, not about the uniform, I've seen weirder."  
  
I gave her a skeptical look.  
  
"Think cherry pie-lace-flowers-bells-Velcro-caterpillar-neon-orange- blacklight and you'll get the general idea," she said, heaving herself out of the fluffiness of the pouf. She flicked her wand at it and it disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. "Get some sleep, I'll see you either later today or tomorrow."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem," she said. "It will all be more than worth it once we get Venus under control. Goodness, she's difficult! Not her fault, probably... being the most beautiful creature in the world can do that to you. But anyway, that's neither here nor there, you just sleep and we'll be off hopefully tomorrow evening."  
  
"All right," I said, smiling and feeling suddenly exhausted. "Bye."  
  
"Good bye!" she said, adding in an undertone, "try to fall asleep or at least pretend you're asleep before Mrs. Boot comes back, I have a feeling you'll be interrogated rather thoroughly if you don't," and left the room, shutting the door behind her. I could hear Mrs. Boot starting to talk out in the hall, and immediately lay down on the cot, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep. 


	21. Jail, Mrs Boot, and the Handyness of Hav...

A/N: Aaack. The notorious villian Real Life has intruded. Every word here was written on stolen time. And I mean stolen. So this chapter is a little short... I was going to wait until I had more before I posted it, but after about five reviews demanding more ASAP (thank you, Kaio! You will forgive me, won't you? LOL!) I figured I'd better get this thing up pronto. (I can't believe you all LIKE this so much... it's really not that good... though I must admit, I am flattered...) So, anyway, here it is, and hopefully I'll be able to get more up soon.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning arrived bright and early... MUCH too bright and early; Mrs. Boot pulled up the shutters outside my cell the second the sun peeked out. I had been woken up about noon, after Mrs. Pearl left, and had been kept awake until past midnight talking to... or rather, listening to... Mrs. Boot, and signing forms. And now I was having to get up, because for some reason unknown to me, Mrs. Boot had felt the need to come in at the crack of dawn and start singing "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" in as loud as she possibly could, in what I assumed was supposed to be an opera voice.  
  
"Oh! You're awake! I can't believe you're up this early!" she exclaimed upon seeing me sit up, as though it was highly unusual to see someone wake just because of the sun staring them directly in the face with a soundtrack of bad opera filling the every nook and cranny of the room. I made no answer (though I admit I was more than relieved the singing fever seemed to have passed), and she pressed on.  
  
"Well, guess what? You're getting out today! That woman that was here last night, you know the one, of course you know the one, there WAS only one! Silly me! Well, anyway, she came and talked to me and the fellow who works above me. He's the one who decides when people get to go. And I imagine you know that you get to leave today, too... that's mostly what all those forms were for, so I really didn't need to tell you that. Well, a happy reminder, then, we'll call it. How's that?" She laughed in an awful, cheery falsetto. "So, you get to get out! That woman --- nice, she was! --- said she'll be here at about eight o' clock. So you'll need to get all ready to go, it's almost six already, would you believe that? It's too bad you're leaving, you're one of the nicer prisoners we've had in here. Bless me, I remember one time when a fairy godmother came in here..."  
  
And she proceeded to tell me a long story about when a fairy godmother cursed her so that she'd look like an oversized parrot for a month. A very talkative parrot, no doubt...  
  
Finally, almost an hour later, her story (complete with backup about her great-great-grandmother's famous pickles and a complete list of all the godmothers that had transformed her into animals) ended, and she excused herself and left. It was a good thing... I was about to turn her into a parrot with its vocal cords removed. My wand, for some reason, hadn't been taken away, and I was seriously considering giving it some exercise.  
  
I looked around. Nothing to pack. And though I didn't imagine I looked the best, there was no way I was going to call Mrs. Boot to let me go freshen up in the bathroom. She'd probably follow me in there and tell me all about her favorite soap brands. Not that I was against the use of the vocal cords, but sometimes they would do better to go on vacation. Mrs. Boot's, at any rate, needed a definite break or they were going to die from overwork. Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing.  
  
I watched the gold and pink clock on the wall outside my cell. Mrs. Pearl wouldn't be here for two hours at least, so I turned to a small stack of magazines that an elf had brought in the evening before. They were all teenage magazines, with articles like "How to Tell if He REALLY Likes You!!!!!" and "Totally Rad Summer Fashions!!!" (You could tell the level of stupidity the magazines were catering to from the number of exclamation marks to be found at the end of every article title.) They weren't exactly the most mind-invigorating reads, to be sure, but it killed time. And besides, it was actually kind of fun to give the models unsightly facial hair with my wand. It was even better when the photos were those newly developed aware-of-the-environment kind, and scowled whenever I did anything to them.  
  
I amused myself for the two hours in this way, and even cultured a new charm to turn high-fashion pants into the sort of thing usually worn on golf courses... only in a bigger plaid and in uglier colors. Then the door opened, and Mrs. Boot hustled in, followed by Mrs. Pearl. I quickly returned the magazines to normal with a wave of my wand and stood up.  
  
"Look at this!" Mrs. Boot said excitedly. "Here's your, your, what are you again? Oh, yes, your boss. She's here to take you, lucky you! You actually got off without bail, she talked to my boss, you know. So you're out, and I certainly hope your stay was nice! You'll just need to sign these forms, they're the last ones. We certainly do have a lot of paperwork here, don't we?" She laughed and handed me a stack of papers and a gold pen through the bars. I sat back down and started to sign while Mrs. Boot kept chattering. These papers were for the oddest reasons --- Do you agree not to sue over the quality of the comforter on the bed? Do you promise not to file a lawsuit against the Arpathian law system about the paint job on the bars of the cell? Do you solemnly swear that you will never name one of your children after the janitor, even if he did help you out in a tight spot? (I knew there must be a story behind this one... the janitor's name was John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, and I couldn't imagine why anyone would burden a child with that. Especially since said janitor insisted upon being called by his full name at all times.)  
  
Finally all the papers were signed and I was more than ready to go. Mrs. Boot unlocked the cell and let me out, and then ushered both Mrs. Pearl and I out the door, talking nonstop the entire time. I was perfectly happy to be ushered out, and did my best to leave as quickly as possible. Mrs. Pearl did the same. We had to sign out at the front desk, and then we were out into the bright sunshine and flew off.  
  
"We'll stop at your apartment," Mrs. Pearl said once we were up in the air and on our way. "I imagine you'll want to change." She glanced at my rumpled ball gown. I nodded.  
  
"Definitely. So we're leaving for Olympus right away?"  
  
"Yes. I'm thinking that the sooner we do this the better. I know you'll be wanting to get back to your assignment."  
  
"Yeah... though I don't know that I'm needed much anymore," I said with a shrug. "They all seem to be settled." Mrs. Pearl gave me a look and laughed.  
  
"That is a very naive statement," she said, looking amused. "Never assume anyone is settled until they've kissed the bride. Or groom, as the case may be. Especially royalty." She paused, thoughtfully, then added, "How soon is the wedding going to be?"  
  
"I don't know that they've decided on a date. A couple months, I'm guessing," I said with another shrug.  
  
"Not for a prince's wedding," she said. "Longer than a couple months... a couple of years is more like it."  
  
"A couple YEARS?" I asked, horrified. Mrs. Pearl smiled.  
  
"That's the NORMAL course of things. But remember... you're a fairy godmother. They could have tie the knot within a month. Just use your magic and your INFLUENCE. Remember: there are perks to being a godmother, influence is one of them. It's a perk and an enormous tool." "Good," I said. The college and town were below us now, and in a moment, we were swooping down to my apartment. I let us in, and Mrs. Pearl waited while I changed into something a little more practical and presentable looking, that didn't smell as though I had been wearing it for two days. Then we were off again, to Mount Olympus. 


	22. Hermes, Hera, and Hula

A/N: Cheers! Happy New Year, and Happy New Chapter. Read, as always, review, as always always (I mean, if you've made it THIS far you must have something or other to say, LOL) and go check out www.joshgroban.com while you're at it. (Sorry... current --- and probably lasting --- obsession. He's REALLY REALLY REALLY good, though. *THUD* --- sound of a devout fan fainting at the hair and voice and eyebrows and other amazingly gorgeous stuff. LOL! :-)  
  
Have a super day!  
  
*****  
  
"So what are we going to do?" I asked Mrs. Pearl, who was crocheting a sweater as she flew. Her ball of yarn hung a few feet below her as though on an invisible shelf.  
  
"Talk to Zeus. Yell at him if he's on one of his chauvinistic kicks again. Get him to exercise a little more control over Venus, and then probably do it again once or twice within the next few years to show him we're serious. And I am," she added, "this is the fifty-billionth time or so she's interfered in one of the cases in my department, I don't even know what else she's been up do, and I don't want to. This is enough for me." "So you don't think Zeus is going to take us seriously?"  
  
"Of course he's not. He's not that bad once you get through to him, it's getting through all the 'I am the supreme ruler of the universe' mentality that will be the problem. He's got a little problem with humility."  
  
"One of THOSE."  
  
"Yes. One of those." She laughed. "We'll be able to get our problem into his head, though. It may take a bit of POUNDING, of course, but we'll get the idea in there somehow. He's just got this male dominance issue... it's quite irritating when you're trying to talk business."  
  
"No kidding." I knew exactly the sort she was talking about... there was one boy in my magical prep school that was going to go into the king's- councilor-who-just-happens-to-know-a-bunch-of-magic business. He constantly made comments along the lines of "Off to cooking class, are we?", usually when we girls were on the way to a magical warfare lecture or something, and I, along with almost all the girls in our class, almost turned into an off-the-deep-end feminist after a year with him.  
  
"If you just give him a death glare and ignore the comments --- in a DIGNIFIED way --- he stops. Usually," she added with a sinister look at her knitting. I grinned.  
  
"Oh, look!" she exclaimed, gesturing with her knitting needles.  
  
An enormous mountain was rising in the distance, surrounded by picturesque clouds at various altitudes. Trees and vegetation covered it until about the middle, and then all was lost for a while among puffy white. Once the clouds thinned, all that could be seen was steel gray rock and snow, with swirling wispy clouds drifting about aimlessly. The peak was extremely high.  
  
"We don't have to fly clear up there?" I asked Mrs. Pearl, who was watching the mountain in a cool critical manner.  
  
"More clouds than last time," she said to herself. "More trees too. Putting on a show!" she snorted. Then, "What was that? Sorry, I missed what you just said."  
  
I smiled. "I asked if we have to fly clear up to the top," I said, and she seemed to be barely refraining from rolling her eyes.  
  
"Hardly. They're not that ambitious. No, not true... they're ambitious enough, but not motivated. You see that part that the clouds cover?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"That's just a cover-up. They live behind all that. Technically, they're SUPPOSED to be living at the top of the mountain, but that's too much work."  
  
"I take it they're not the most hardworking crowd," I said.  
  
"They're downright lazy," she said sniffily, "unless they're involved in some soap opera-type affair... which they usually are. They'll go to any lengths to win each other's hearts, or kill each other, depending on which mood strikes."  
  
This sounded rather worrisome. "Will we be safe?" I asked.  
  
"Not at all. One can never be safe around them. But they can't really cause us any LASTING harm. A couple curses, maybe, but if they kill us, they'll get kicked off the mountain. International magical laws. And they couldn't have that. No, we might leave with a couple of nasty spells, but we'll definitely be alive."  
  
"That's comforting," I said wryly. She arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Quite."  
  
*****  
  
Mrs. Pearl knocked firmly on the golden gates, clouds swirling around us, and making everything beyond the gates white and indistinguishable.  
  
"Hermes is supposed to be guarding the gates," she muttered. "Probably run off again." She knocked again, harder this time. A face peeked out from between the golden bars. Not the most handsome of faces, but pleasant and cheerful.  
  
"Who goes there?" it asked dutifully in a fairly high, horn-ish, squeaking voice, rather like that of a puppet.  
  
"Amelia Pearl. I'm here for Zeus and Aphrodite." The face seemed to consider for a moment, then grinned.  
  
"Well... Zeus isn't in. Aphy is, though. Come on in, I'll go fetch her."  
  
The gates swung open, and the owner of the face came into full view as he stepped out beyond the wall that surrounded Olympus. He was fairly tall, with curly brown hair and an impish face, and was dressed in traditional Greek garb, with wings on his shoes and staff.  
  
"Thank you, Hermes," said Mrs. Pearl. She marched through, causing little disturbed swirls of cloud, and I followed her. "Aren't you supposed to check to make sure we're not really enemies?" she asked as she passed Hermes. He shrugged.  
  
"I suppose so. Oh well, you don't look likely to do much damage. And besides," he added in a softer voice, "we do enough damage amongst ourselves, I don't figure anyone would see a need to come in a do more."  
  
Mrs. Pearl chuckled.  
  
"Isn't that true."  
  
Hermes winked cheekily, then slammed the enormous gates shut with a loud clang and pranced up ahead of us.  
  
"Follow me, I'll take you straight to the palace. This way!" And he went off ahead into the mist, occasionally flying up with the wings on his sandals flapping, rather like a young bird trying to fly.  
  
The clouds dissolved surprisingly quickly as we moved forward, until there was nothing left to be seen of them, unless I looked behind. The sun was beaming down on the large smooth lawn ahead of us as though it were a fine summer day in a warm part of the country, rather than the middle of a mountain surrounded by cold clouds in the middle of who-knew-where. A huge palace stood in front of us, some hundred feet ahead. It was all white and open, with an enormous porch all along the front with tall pillars supporting the roof. A flight of wide steps led up to it, and there were two fountains set among them, on either side of the building, splashing and twinkling in the sunlight. People were wandering about here and there in a sort of slow, lazy, dreamy way, talking or just strolling along as though they hadn't a care in the world. (This was probably far from true, if you judged by the stories I had heard about the Olympians.) They were all wearing either white or pastels, for some reason, and their clothing was draped very artistically, just as it was often portrayed on old vases, or in books. Most of them gazed curiously at us... unless they were too busy gazing in their companion's eyes, as many were. Venus had probably worked her magic up here, too.  
  
Hermes led us up the steps between the fountains, and onto the long porch. A pair of golden latticework double doors were set in the wall, along with pompous-looking busts and small statues of scantily-clad people.  
  
"Give me a minute," Hermes said, and danced up to the doors. He opened one, and was gone in an instant.  
  
"So, what do you think?" asked Mrs. Pearl in an undertone.  
  
"It's... interesting," I said truthfully. I honestly wasn't sure what I thought. It was pretty, but... artificial, almost.  
  
"Wait 'til you get inside."  
  
As if on cue, the door Hermes had disappeared into flew open. Hermes's face was sulky.  
  
"Come on in."  
  
Mrs. Pearl and I exchanged looks that meant basically "Why the mood swing and why do I sense that we're in trouble?" and went inside.  
  
It was cool and darker than it was outside, but still well-lit. My eyes took only a second to adjust.  
  
We were in a tall, open hall with a white domed roof, made up of curved triangular panels with a large gold bead of sorts at each corner. Most everything in here was either white, gray, or blue, with maybe a hint of gold here and there. The floor was a shiny, pale gray marble swirled with white, and pillars of the same rock stretched up to the ceiling. Enormous windows lined the walls, and below many of them were very elegant but comfortable-looking blue couches, that looked absolutely perfect for dramatically draping yourself over them. That was probably what they were mostly used for, as a matter of fact. In the center of the room was a huge statue, or collection of statues, rather, on a circular, raised marble platform. A very powerful looking man --- Zeus --- was seated in the center on an elaborate throne. Hera was seated beside him on a much simpler throne, and the gods and goddesses of Olympus were placed around them, in the usual dramatic, willowy poses. Aside from that, the room was virtually empty. Way beyond the statue was a large, graceful flight of stairs, which led to a balcony that went the whole length of the far side of the room. Curved golden doors lined the wall behind it, and the same style of doors could be seen below the balcony under and around the stairs. The entire room was positively magnificent.  
  
Hermes let us look around for a moment, then sniffed.  
  
"This room," he said disdainfully, "is for show. It's only purpose is to show off the noble family," he gestured to the statue, "and to impress people. Though it's also pretty functional as a room to lead into the rest of the house."  
  
House. Would that I could call something like this a "house".  
  
"Come on. It's up the stairs we go," said Hermes, and he started walking, almost unwillingly, it seemed. He coughed a couple of times, then said awkwardly, "Er... um, there's been a slight change of plans."  
  
"What sort?" asked Mrs. Pearl sharply. Hermes looked uncomfortable.  
  
"Well... see... Aphy's kind of busy right now... and, uh, on the way to her chambers I... I, uh... I ran into Hera."  
  
Mrs. Pearl picked up her pace, until she was standing right next to Hermes. "And WHAT exactly does that mean?" she asked.  
  
"Well... it, uh, it means she wants to see you," he said with a shrug and an attempt at a smile.  
  
"Oh, that's delightful," Mrs. Pearl said, quite as though she thought exactly the opposite, "just delightful. Do try and get us away from her as quickly as you possibly can."  
  
"Shall try," he said dutifully. "But I can't promise anything."  
  
"Try your BEST," said Mrs. Pearl. We started up the flight of steps, Mrs. Pearl shaking her head.  
  
"What's the matter?" I asked. "Is there something... wrong... with her?"  
  
"She's a bit... well, you'll see. Jealous, I think, is the word I want. She's a bit jealous. And suspicious. And it's either dangerous or simply irritating. Either way, I was sincerely hoping we would NOT have to meet with her."  
  
"Shush," said Hermes. "Keep your voice down."  
  
"I don't care if she hears me," Mrs. Pearl said.  
  
"But I do!"  
  
"Fine. Just try to get us away soon."  
  
"I will. No promises, though, remember that!"  
  
"All right. No promises."  
  
We were at the top of the steps. Hermes led us to a door to the left, opened it, and ushered us through. A woman was seated on a long white couch, one arm draped over the thin, curving side, the other across her lap. She surveyed us imperially for a moment, then rose.  
  
"Welcome to Olympus," she said in a soft voice. It sounded more like a threat than a welcome.  
  
"Thank you," said Mrs. Pearl politely. I echoed her, but in a more muted voice... this woman intimidated me, somehow.  
  
"I recognize you," she said, moving forward. "Amelia Pearl, is it not? You were at the Academy's last reunion, weren't you?"  
  
"Yes, that would be me. We met briefly."  
  
"Yes," she mused. "Yes, we did. Well, who is your young companion?" She eyed me rather like a hawk looking at a mouse. Mrs. Pearl nudged me.  
  
"Celeste Shimmerstar," I said. "I work under Mrs. Pearl."  
  
"I see," she said in that quiet, smooth voice of hers. "And what brings you to Olympus?"  
  
"I came to see Zeus," I said, "over..."  
  
"Oh, really?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "Planning to take my husband away from me, were you, little wench?" She advanced slowly, looking positively menacing. A nerve had been touched.  
  
"No!" I exclaimed, horrified. "I want him to talk... I mean, I got into a little trouble, and ---"  
  
"Do not lie to me!" she hissed.  
  
"I'm not, I ---"  
  
"Hera!" Mrs. Pearl said sharply. "Celeste has NO inclinations whatsoever to disturb you or your marriage in any way! We both came to see Zeus on a matter of business!"  
  
Hera seemed to relax a small amount at this. She looked us over again.  
  
"Very well. But I'm afraid he isn't here right now," she said, "though he should be back in a while. His hula lesson should be over within the next half hour."  
  
Mrs. Pearl raised an bemused eyebrow. "Hula lesson?"  
  
Hera waved a hand impatiently. "Yes, yes. He and Hercules are taking hula lessons." What might have been a grimace on any less dignified person crossed her face. "Male bonding."  
  
"I didn't know Zeus was into that," Mrs. Pearl said, " he doesn't seem the type."  
  
"He wasn't," Hera said dryly. "But now he's into that, getting in touch with his feminine side, and feng shui. Demeter suggested the feng shui and everything else followed."  
  
"Good heavens," was Mrs. Pearl's only comment.  
  
"Well, can I pass on a message to him?" asked Hera. "I can have him get back to you."  
  
"Actually, it's about Aphrodite," said Mrs. Pearl. "She's interfered one too many times in the love affairs of mortals."  
  
"What do you mean, 'one too many times'? That's her job." We received a look that implied Hera thought we were both daft.  
  
"Yes, but it's blatant interference, and it's in my department. Celeste," Mrs. Pearl gestured to me, "was recently put in jail for something Aphrodite did."  
  
"Elaborate."  
  
"The use of Cupid's bow and arrow to make a mortal couple fall in love at a ball where all love-related magic was strictly prohibited," said Mrs. Pearl promptly. "She gave the bow to Celeste to use, so the magic was connected directly to her."  
  
"I see," Hera said softly. She seemed to be considering for a moment, then said sharply. "Fine. This way." And she marched --- in a flowing, queen-of- Olympus kind of way --- past us and to the door. Hermes swept it open for her very quickly. Mrs. Pearl and I followed, she looking quite smug, and myself wondering exactly what on earth had just happened. 


	23. Hermes the Hacker and Pink Silk Stuff

A/N: ACK! I was going to update. I really was. By my internet didn't exactly agree on that point. So I got bumped to story #107 while waiting to get back online. Oogala boogala humph!  
  
Anyway. Here is the chapter. The next one ought to be up promptly, as long as I can steal enough time to actually write it... please do keep checking back, though, I am trying.  
  
Also, OutlawEris... yes, I like Josh. I LOVE Josh. I am going to MARRY Josh, never mind the fact that he is almost 9 years my senior, and at my age, that means something. You're invited to our wedding. LOL! ;-D  
  
*************  
  
Hera briskly led us back out onto the balcony in the enormous entrance hall, across to another of the doors, through it and down a wide, well-lit passageway with blue couches set in the wall under windows, through another door, up a flight of stairs, down another, narrower, passageway, up another flight of stairs, ANOTHER passageway and ANOTHER flight of stairs, down yet ANOTHER passageway, and into Aphrodite's living quarters. I hardly need say I was more than out of breath by this time --- apparently Hera has this goddess-ly ability to march and march and march, without slowing, for a LONG time. She wasn't even short of breath. I looked over at Mrs. Pearl, and realized with a pang of irritation at myself that she had simply been flying the whole way. Of course.  
  
WHY did I never think of these things? "Wait here," said Hera sharply to Mrs. Pearl and I. "I'll go and fetch her. Have a seat." She waved vaguely at the room in large, which I took to mean the two rose-colored couches in the center of it. Hera swept off through a pink, light-weight curtain, which divided this sitting room we were in from the rest of the chambers. Mrs. Pearl sat down lightly after Hera left, and I followed her, looking --- rather nervously --- around.  
  
The room was expertly decorated, and seemed to match Aphrodite quite well... all was light and airy, the curtains impeccably draped and folded to reveal a gorgeous landscape below the white marble balcony. They were a deep pink color, trimmed with gold, as was much of the room. Everything in here seemed to be either pink, red, or gold, and, while I normally didn't like color schemes such as this one --- a pink/red combination was all well and good, but rooms should not, in general, be decorated solely in those colors, as it tended to make the room look like a badly-done Valentine --- I found myself strongly wishing I had a sitting room like this. (I was, of course, ignoring the fact that my entire apartment would have fit in this room.) Everything was so... beautiful and... well, Goddess-of-Love-ish. I'd never really been too concerned with dating, marriage, and all that, aside from what was covered in my job --- I was a romantic at heart, but was NOT about to take any of that into the general field of practice --- but now I found myself rather longing for a wedding or something along that line. With roses all over... pretty roses...  
  
"Rather nice room, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Pearl with an amused glance in my direction. She had obviously seen my dazed expression, and I quickly snapped back to normal.  
  
"Yeah," I said offhandedly, "very appropriate." I tried to look as though I hadn't been mooning over it two seconds before.  
  
There was a rustle behind the curtain Hera had disappeared through, and a sharp whisper. A plaintive voice wailed "Heraaa!" and then it squeaked. "You poked me!" the same voice said accusingly, and it was answered with a hissing "Shush! Aphrodite, act your age!"  
  
Mrs. Pearl and I exchanged looks.  
  
Hera swept out from behind the curtain, smoothing her black hair and attempting to retain some of her dignity.  
  
"Aphrodite will be out in a few moments," she said, and condescended to seat herself on the couch opposite Mrs. Pearl and I. She looked at us in turn, and I, feeling rather self-conscious, sat up straighter and attempted to look like something more composed and confident than the bewildered college graduate I actually was. Mrs. Pearl, on the other hand, looked back at Hera calmly, a slight smile on her face, and seemed completely unperturbed.  
  
Then Aphrodite swept through the curtain, looking as beautiful as when I had first seen her. The only differences, in fact, were her clothing --- spring green, this time, with yellow and pink ribbons criss-crossing the waist, to match those in her shimmering, upswept hair --- and her smile, which seemed to be extra-large. She nodded graciously to us and settled herself next to Hera on the couch. This gorgeous, composed goddess looked quite unlike the whiny, adolescent voice we had heard behind the curtain.  
  
"So, what can I do for you today?" she asked me, beaming.  
  
"I, uh..." I cleared my throat, quite discomposed. I was supposed to tell off this sparkling creature and make her stop interfering in the affairs of godmothers? Right.  
  
"I, er, have a small problem," I said haltingly.  
  
"What sort of problem? Didn't the magic I gave you at the ball work?" She looked syrupy-ly concerned, as though she was doing it not only because she genuinely cared, but also because she was sure I would spread tales of her great power and compassion. "It must have, I've been observing the couple, and they seem quite enamored with one another."  
  
"The bow worked fine," I said, "but---"  
  
"Well, that's all right then," she interrupted cheerfully. "What do you say we all go out to the gardens for a nice tea?"  
  
"Don't change the subject," said Hera sharply. Aphrodite shot her the sort of look you'd expect to see on the face of a spoiled teenager after her mother told her to go, right NOW, and return the indecently low-cut shirt she'd just gotten or something.  
  
"Actually," I tried again, "there WAS a bit of a problem."  
  
"Really?" she asked, with just a little too much interest to be entirely plausible. "Whatever on earth could have happened, did Cupid's bow malfunction? It hasn't done that in AGES. A week and a half, at least!"  
  
Oh, THAT was an enormous amount of time. I was suddenly extremely worried about the world in general.  
  
"No, it didn't do anything like that," I said, then hurried on so she couldn't interrupt. "It hit who it was supposed to, and with the desired result, but it also connected the magic back to me. And all love-inducing and -enhancing magic was strictly prohibited."  
  
"That could certainly be a problem," she said. "Well, just be sure they don't find out!" She smiled, and made as if to rise.  
  
"They already have."  
  
She sat back down, with a small "Oh." I had a feeling she sensed she was in trouble.  
  
"I just got out of jail, and a "Blatant Disregard for Magical Laws" is going on my record. Not that anyone pays any attention to the record unless you're applying for a job with the law, but still, I would prefer to keep it clean. And I would definitely rather stay out of jail."  
  
"But there's nothing I can do NOW, is there?" Aphrodite asked. "I mean, it's done, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes," I said, "we haven't come to fix what's already happened. We've come to make sure you don't do anything like that again."  
  
Aphrodite looked shocked.  
  
"Not... but that's my JOB. That's what I DO. I can't just STOP like that, I mean ---"  
  
"We don't want you to stop entirely," I cut in, before she started into full-fledged hysterics. "We want to make sure you check ALL the rules and regulations before you start interfering."  
  
"I'd prefer it if you'd just stop helping fairy godmothers altogether, but that's not to be expected," said Mrs. Pearl. "I imagine most of your work comes from them."  
  
"Yes," said Aphrodite with a little nod. "But check ALL the rules before? Nothing will ever get done in time, I mean, it will take a while to get ahold of the rules, if there even ARE any. I won't be of much use."  
  
Mrs. Pearl twitched at the word "use", but said calmly, "I'm sure you'll be able to work something out. Use whatever you use to spy on people to check the Lawhouse."  
  
"Webcams," Aphrodite said, "but I don't think webcams will be of much use down THERE. All the rules are in filing cabinets, I think, there's no way to open them at will without someone noticing. And it would take ages to sift through them all."  
  
"Ah," said Mrs. Pearl with a smile, "I think there's an easier way. Each and every rule, temporary or otherwise, is kept in a database online. It's got a search feature, so that will cut down the time dramatically. The only problem is that to access it, you need to have special permission and the password and all that, and they won't give it to you. The Lawkeepers like to lord it over everyone else that they have permission. WHY I can't say... but anyway, there's no reason why you couldn't get access to the site with the help of a sufficiently talented hacker..." she trailed off suggestively, and Hera and Aphrodite exchanged looks and said simultaneously, "HERMES!"  
  
"He's fantastic," Aphrodite said enthusiastically. "He's been able to get into all sorts of things. Pirate message boards --- I got some great romance out of that one, I got a bunch of girls to dress as pirates and sneak onto some ships, it was excellent, the captain was FURIOUS, but he couldn't do anything about it. Especially when HE fell in love with the princess of Tarabon, after she decided to run away --- you know, the old "independent princess" thing --- and become a rather seductive piratess. And Hermes also found a "Waiting For Love" chatroom... I haven't had THAT much fun in years. Cupid's arrows work pretty well through computers, people were falling in love right and left. They seemed pretty happy with who they got, once they met. I don't know WHY, those people were "Waiting For Love" because... well, there wasn't anything they couldn't do but wait," she gave a peal of girlish laughter. "That one guy, with all the hair in his ea---"  
  
"Well, yes," cut in Mrs. Pearl sharply. I imagine she was probably feeling like I was. That is to say: not too anxious to hear the rest of this... I've never been a fan of ear-hair, and I really didn't want to hear about the stuff more than was strictly necessary. "Interesting as that sounds, I believe Hermes has arrived." She gestured to the door, where he was standing, hands twisting in front of him. He looked rather nervous.  
  
"Herm," Aphrodite said, beckoning him over. "We need your help." Hermes looked rather as though he were barely suppressing a sigh. "With a computer issue," she added, and his impish face lit up.  
  
"Show me what to do!" he said cheerfully, skipping in to the room as though he had wings attached to his feet. It took me a second to remember that he actually DID.  
  
"You see," Aphrodite explained, "we have a bit of a... problem." I thought I saw Hermes muttering something, but I couldn't be sure. "I need you to break into the online Arpathian law and rule database."  
  
"That's all?" Hermes asked, surprised. "I figured it would be something actually mildly difficult..."  
  
"Well, excuse me, Mr. High-and-Mighty Internet Geek," Aphrodite said, sounding rather like a teenage girl annoyed with her show-off little brother. "Just get into it for me, all right?"  
  
"Fine." Hermes looked rather smug with himself, all the same.  
  
Aphrodite snapped and pointed at a small round table, draped with dark pink silk. A vase of roses on a doily was sitting on it, and the bouquet and doily rose as a shiny gold computer monitor, mouse, and keyboard rose up out of the center of the table and settled itself. Aphrodite swept over to it, mumbled a few words and brushed her hand across the screen, which lit up. A cool, pleasant woman's voice sounded through the room.  
  
"Welcome, Aphrodite."  
  
Aphrodite clicked one of the many icons on the screen (all of which seemed to be a sort of rose, heart, or arrow design), and a web page popped up, to www.venusimpressions.oly, apparently Aphrodite's favorite site, judging by the many photographs and paintings of her that were on it. Aphrodite stepped back and gestured to Hermes to take over. He skipped up, and speedily went from the homepage to a search engine, then to the Arpathian Law website. There was a homepage, which required you to type in a password to enter. Hermes considered for about two and a half seconds, then typed something which appeared in little stars. He clicked the "Enter" button, and was immediately granted access to the website. "How did you do that?" I asked in surprise. He grinned.  
  
"It's not hard. The password is "Laws Rule!" It's pretty easy to break into any Arpathian official website. Just type in whatever the subject is, say that it rules or rocks or something really glorifying and adolescent like that, and you'll most likely be in."  
  
"Are you criticizing the intelligence and common sense of my country?" asked Mrs. Pearl, looking amused.  
  
"Only the government, ma'am," said Hermes, saluting her. Then he scampered out of the room, calling over his shoulder, "You owe me, Aphy! I don't break into the law for nothing!" And then he was gone. Mrs. Pearl chuckled.  
  
"Some thousand years old and is still as immature as he was at ten."  
  
"What else is to be expected?" Aphrodite asked with a long-suffering sigh. I caught Mrs. Pearl's eyes... she seemed to be thinking the same thing: Hermes wasn't the only one with a maturity problem.  
  
"Well, thank you for coming to get this all straightened out," said Hera politely. "Would you care to go out into the garden for tea?"  
  
"Thank you, but no," said Mrs. Pearl. I felt rather disappointed --- the Olympus crew didn't seem exactly the most level-headed, but I found them quite interesting. I especially wanted to see this new and sensitive Zeus. Besides, Olympus was gorgeous, well worth seeing more of. "We have to be going," Mrs. Pearl continued. briskly. "There are a few things to wrap up at home."  
  
"Well, then, we'll be seeing you sometime soon, I hope?" Hera asked. I doubted her sincerity... next time we came, Zeus might be there. And I wasn't sure that she could handle two women besides herself being in Zeus's presence, even if they were only Mrs. Pearl and I, who were certainly harmless as far as the King and Queen of Olympus's marriage was concerned. I mean, really.  
  
We made our final adieus, then Hermes was called back and ordered to take us back out, then go downstairs to the Underworld and see if Hades would be able to make it to the cocktail party that evening. So he led the way out of the palace, back down the path, to the gate and through the clouds.  
  
"See you!" he called as we disappeared through the mists.  
  
"Bye!" I called back, waving. And then we were out and flying, back into the bright sunshine. Or at least, it would have been bright if it hadn't been almost sunset.  
  
"Oh, I forgot!" Mrs. Pearl exclaimed, glancing at her shiny silver pocket watch. "The sky doesn't act normally in there!" She gestured behind us at the mountain. "It all depends on how the Zeus and Hera want it. Which is a pity, I'm going to be late for my book club. And I'M bringing the refreshments!"  
  
**************  
  
Further A/N: There is a simply gorgeous little periwinkle button down there. Go click it. ;-) 


	24. Glass Slippers and Sugar Wuger

A/N: HI! I am alive! And I, after roughly 3,742 months without any sort of usable internet whatsoever, I have my computer back and up and running!!! So I can finally write and update!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Note the excitement by the dramatic use of exclamation marks.)

Okay. Here is a new chapter. Hear that? A NEW CHAPTER. Holy smokes, I know! Gasp! And it's fairly long. And new chapters will be coming in slowly but regularly. Slowly, b/c no one on earth (that I personally know) is aware that I write, except for one other person who hasn't read any of my stories. So I write only when I'm alone and have a guarantee of not being disturbed. And regularly, because I have GOT to get this finished eventually... it's been what, two years...?

Ahem...:

As soon as I got home, I made myself a cup of tea and settled down to read my e-mail and check on Cinderella's situation. She was doing wonderfully, shrieking at servants to sew her dresses with ONLY gold thread, demanding fresh bouquets of roses --- the three hour old ones were wilting, or so she claimed --- and practicing wearing a crown and sitting on a throne. Any free time she had was spent either gossiping and socializing with the ladies of the court and taking romantic walks with Prince Charming. She was positively blissful, and I was quite certain that THIS time, my job was close to being done. Of course, I knew from experience that I couldn't count on anything until my case report was written and turned in, but there didn't seem to be a great chance of anything bad happening.

After replying to a few e-mails --- mostly from Clarabelle, who had heard some of what had happened and was extremely anxious to hear if I was all right. Then I changed into my nightgown, and read for a good half hour before falling into bed, for a much-needed rest. I made sure to turn my alarm clock off.

The next morning, I awoke to sunlight streaming across my floor, and birds twittering outside. There was also a very strange sound coming from my kitchen...

Wrinkling my eyebrows, I crept out of bed, tied a bathrobe over my nightgown, and tiptoed to the door. It wasn't burgulars, it was too late in the morning for tha, unless they were extraordinarily stupid. And it wasn't Mother, unless for some strange reason she had decided to come home two months early from Jarujabell, and that was HIGHLY unlikely... Mother wasn't one to cut down on vacation time for ANY reason. Maybe Clarabelle had broken in, she'd done it before. But that didn't sound like her...

I cracked the door and peeked out and down my narrow hallway. I could just see the kitchen table. Someone was sitting there, with her golden-haired head on her arms, sobbing. I didn't recognize her for a moment, then:

"Cinderella!" I exclaimed, hurrying out of my room, clipping my hair up into a rather messy bun as I went. "_WHAT _are you doing here?"

She looked up at me, her eyes swollen --- but in a very ladylike way, of course. She sniffed, and wiped her nose daintily on an embroidered handkerchief.

"I... I..." and she burst into tears again. I felt almost sorry for her.

"Why don't I make us some tea, and you can tell my all about it," I suggested in what I hoped was a soothing voice.

"Raspberry," she demanded pitifully. I turned my head to the cupboard quickly to hide my sudden smile. Really, the girl was sitting at my kitchen table, sobbing as though her heart was broken... it wasn't funny. Or at least, it shouldn't have been.

"All right, raspberry." I bustled around for a moment, filling a teapot, rummaging through my messy cabinets, trying to find the tea.

"Why don't you just use your wand?" she asked after a moment, in an almost accusing way.

"It's against the apartment rules to use little magic inside," I explained. "Otherwise, too many other godmothers, godfathers, genies, wizards, and all the rest, would be completely overloading the building. Magic is for big things only."

"I should think using magic for a princess in sore distress would be considered 'big,'" she sniffed.

"Well, I would agree with you," I lied, "but I don't think I'd care to explain that to my landlord. Here." I handed her a teacup on a saucer, with a delicate little spoon next to it. She surveyed the china, then seemed satisfied --- she didn't complain about it, at any rate. I poured some steaming tea into her cup, offered her some sugar, which she brightened up considerably at, then settled myself down.

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, steeling myself to hear that the prince's marriage to anyone but a born-and-bred princess was illegal, or something like that.

"It's... it's..." she dabbed at her nose again with the handkerchief, "it's... oh, fairy godmother, it's so awful!"

"What is it?" I asked, trying to sound concerned over her welfare. "Is everything all right at the palace?"

"'Is everything all right?'" she repeated, suddenly almost hysterical. "Of course everything isn't all right! Would I be sitting here in this tiny apartment instead of in my enormous suites at the palace if everything was all right?"

"No." I left it at that. She didn't need encouragement.

"I supposed I had better start at the beginning," she sighed, returning abruptly to her damsel-in-distress lachrymose attitude. "Do you have any chocolate? It always improves my mood, and I know you want me to feel better!"

"Yes," I said, standing up. I went back to the cupboards, and rummaged around, finally producing a large bag of Choco Toads. I looked at them, decided a toad was definitely not a shape I wanted to serve Cinderella --- who knew how loudly she'd shriek? --- so I opened the bag and quickly transfigured them into cute little butterflies, then dumped them into a large bowl so she wouldn't see the wrapper, which had large cartoony illustrations of warty toads with long, slimy tongues, happily eating big juicy flies.

"So," I said, sitting back down, "what seems to be the problem?"

She reached into the bowl and pulled out a rather large handful of the butterflies, and morosely ate one. I waited. Then she sighed heavily, dumped the rest unceremoniously on the table, and put her chin in her hands, staring glumly at the cheery, bright flowers on the white bowl. I waited.

"Well..." she started eventually, "I... oh, it's so sad! The prince and I... we... yesterday, he and I were working on picking out my wedding clothes. And... and we had a bunch of dresses selected, and the hair things, and gloves, and a bunch of crowns that we like... and then..." she took a deep breath and blinked as though trying not to burst into tears again. "He said I had to wear glass shoes!" she finally burst out.

"Well, that's stupid," I said, helping myself to a butterfly.

"Glass shoes!" she exclaimed dramatically. "Glass!"

"Tell him that you won't wear them, they'll break," I said with a shrug.

"I did!"

"And?"

"And he said that they won't break, they'll bend and stuff. They're fairy-made," she added. "Not like YOU. One of the little ones."

"Then what's the matter?" I asked, slightly puzzled. There was no logic behind this drama.

"I think they're ugly!" she said, as though this should have been obvious. "I don't want to wear them!"

I paused and tried to come up with some wise counsel she'd understand. I bit back the urge to say something along the lines of "Tough noogies." Finally I grabbed a floating thread of an idea, and started talking, feeling extremely grateful for the Marital Counseling class I had gone through for my degree.

"You love the prince, right?" I asked. Her answering gave me more time to come up with some sort of reply.

"Yes. But that doesn't mean I should have to wear ugly shoes!"

"That's true," I said slowly. Okay, now I had to convince her that if she really did love the prince, she should wear ugly shoes. It was the kind of logic that children end up going to psychiatrists over later in life, but I didn't really care... get her married, and the psychiatrist could deal with it, my part would be over. I was starting to question why I had chosen this as a vocation and not gone for something simple, like... dragon taming.

"So you do love the prince. Do you want to marry him?"

"Not if he's going to make me wear ugly shoes!" she wailed. I shot her a stern look. She sighed. "Okay... er, I mean, INDEED. I do indeed wish to marry the prince. But not in those... things!"

I ignored the last comment.

"In a marriage, you'll need to make sacrifices. Once you're married, you need to work to get along with your husband. Marriage isn't easy."

She looked shocked at this. I decided to start backpedaling REAL quick.

"But it's worth it," I stressed, "in return for your hard work and sacrifice, you are going to get a wonderful relationship with the prince in return. Your marriage will be a strong one, full of love and fulfillment." I was starting to sound like one of my cheesy old textbooks. "And besides, you aren't going to have to work very hard to have a fantastic marriage. You are marrying the PRINCE, after all."

She looked smug at this reminder. I continued.

"Sometimes you will have to make tiny sacrifices, like wearing shoes you don't care for. But in return, you'll have a happy husband. And next time he wants you to do something like this, you can remind him that you wore ugly shoes for him, and so you shouldn't have to do whatever it is this time." This, of course, was the sort of thing that leads to UNhappy marriages, but Cinderella didn't need to know that. Besides, she'd probably have done it anyway, without me telling her to. "It gives you a certain amount of power."

"Oh." She looked thoughful, and started eating the chocolate again. I watched her closely, hoping for some sign that she agreed with me, and would go to the palace and stop causing trouble. And I got it.

"Fine," she said, leaping up very suddenly. "I'll wear the ugly shoes. Bye. Only I want to take that chocolate with me, the butterflies are cute."

"Help yourself," I said, one eyebrow raised.

"I need something to carry them in," she said pointedly. I stood, surveyed her for a moment, and went and got a plastic baggy. She sighed loudly.

"Not something PLASTIC," she said in irritation. "Something silk, velvet, or crystal."

"Oh, of course," I said, refraining from adding a very sarcastic "Your Majesty." At least out loud. For Pete's sake, this girl was high-maintenance! I darted back into my bedroom, rummaged through a tote full of fabric, and found a pink silk handkerchief which I had been planning on using for trim or something... it was too ugly and PINK to stand alone. I brought it back into the kitchen, dumped the butterfly chocolates into it, and tied it into a frilly little bundle.

"Thank you," said Cinderella, in what she obviously thought was a gracious voice.

"No problem," I said, NOT rolling my eyes. I handed the bundle to her, and she took it, then went and stood by the door expectantly.

"Bye," I said. She said nothing, just stood and looked at me. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" I asked at last, getting rather uncomfortable with that expectant stare directed at me.

"I can't walk back to the palace alone," she said.

"You walked here perfectly fine last night."

"But this is not last night," she said, as though that made all the difference in the world and I was extremely dense not to realize that.

"Well, I'm not walking you there, I have things I need to do today." This was the truth... I had planned on sitting in front of the television like an idiot until late afternoon, eating bon-bons and reveling in the fact that Cinderella was almost married.

"Call me a cab," she ordered. "An expensive one."

"Fine," I snapped. "But the prince gets to pay the bill."

"Fine," she sniffed in return. I went to the phone, dialed up the most expensive cab company I could find. They said they would be there in three minutes or less "Or the ride's free!" I was rather hoping they'd get to my apartment in exactly three minutes and two seconds... free ride, and I wouldn't have to put up with Miss Princess much longer than was absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, that ran very counter to the International Laws of Murphy-etic Comedy, which meant that the cab arrived exactly two minutes and fifty seven seconds after I had made the phone call ordering it. That was all right, though... I just made it quite clear to the cab driver --- this was while I was standing outside on the curb in my bathrobe, of course --- that he would be paid when he reached the palace. Cinderella objected quite strongly to this at first, but once I pulled her aside and reminded her in an undertone that it would be a wonderful chance to demonstrate of her wealth and benevolence to the general public, she brightened considerably and said that certainly, she would be happy to ensure that the cab driver was paid as soon as they reached the palace, and that she would also personally ensure that he was given a large tip, in "nice shiny coins!" He looked pleased with this arrangement, and soon, they were off, and I was left alone to bask in the silence of my apartment.

Well, for a while, at least. Fairly soon the hag upstairs --- and I mean that quite literally --- rolled out of bed at her customary late hour, and began stomping around as she usually did before her morning carrot juice, which, for some reason or another, served to wake her and turn her into an immensely pleasant person. But until then, she was loud and grumpy, and every loud and grumpy sound she made floated right down into my kitchen. So I turned on the morning news, dumped out the raspberry tea and filled it with peppermint, and settled down for some proper weekend wake-up time. Which meant sitting around in my pajamas until my long, leisurely breakfast was over, then sitting around some more until I finally decided to get up, get dressed, and do something productive. Such as go fly to the palace to do some snooping.

Not that I wanted to. But I was getting a whole host of those highly-annoying-but-it's-for-your-own-good-you-know prods in the conscience. I wouldn't be doing my job properly if I were to just do a little here and a little there and not fully look into the consequences of my actions, yaddi-yadda-yadda, said the voices in my head. So, at about noon, and after quite a few battles with what I wanted to do and what I should be doing, the conscience won the war. I packed my purse with a few devices --- the Xtra Ear, that sort of thing --- actually got dressed and slipped into a very Saturday-ish baggy blouse, capris, and flip-flops (which I sincerily hoped wouldn't fall off of the flight over), grabbed my wand, and left.

Cinderella was in her Royal Brunch Chamber with the prince. I could see them through the glass... they were sitting across from one another, talking, she looking very earnest, he looking very everyone-lookit-me-I'm-_humble_! Apologies were going on, of course. I dug my Xtra Ear out of my purse and slipped it in.

"And darling," Cinderella was saying passionately. "I _will _wear those slippers! And I shall not make _one word _of complaint, even though they are the stupidest idea ever to cross your darling royal _brain _---" the prince beamed at the "darling royal brain" bit "--- because I _love _you and wish to _marry _you and live in _peace _and _harmony_, and after all, marriage _does _require a bit of work, but it's _all _worth it in the end because our marriage will be full of _love _and _fulfillment_."

The prince beamed. I grimaced.

"Those are deeply wise and profound words, sugar-muffin," Charming said gravely. The woman serving them looked revolted.

"I am a very wise and profound person, snookums," said Cinderella sweetly, leaning back and daintily shaking sugar onto her cantaloupe. The serving woman's face turned from revolt to utter disgust.

"Indeed you are, my little honey pie!" said the prince. He leaned forward, and he and Cinderella brushed their noses together affectionately.

The server made her escape.

"Honey bunny," Cinderella said. "When is the wedding?"

"Well, my little water lily, I was thinking that the spring after next would be lovely, don't you think?"

"But my ickle princie! The spring AFTER next? Why can't it be sooner? I want to marry you and live happily ever after as a princess should, but I can't do any of that until I'm an actual princess, and that can't happen until I've married a handsome little prince like YOU!" She was very passionate about this little declaration.

The prince looked blankly at her.

"You mean you're not a princess?"

Cinderella shook her head and smiled as if to say, "Oh, you funny cute little thing!"

"No, sweet cake," she said, "I told you that already. But according to royal law, I'll become a princess when I marry you."

"Oh. Then, my darling little buttercup, the wedding must be as soon as possible!" He declared. "How about _next _spring?"

"That's almost a whole year away!" Cinderella cried, clutching at her heart with her smooth and perfectly manicured hands, which now sported such an abundance of rings it would be impossible to pick out the engagement ruby the prince had given her.

"But sweetie pie," Charming said with an overdone air of helplessness, "it takes a long time to arrange a proper royal wedding."

Cinderella returned to sprinkling sugar on her fruit. She said nothing for a moment, then looked at him and said dramatically, "Not if we have help."

"We have help," the prince said flatly. "I'm the prince, remember?"

"Oh, no, dear, not that kind of help. Everyone uses that kind of help for their wedding. I'm talking SPECIAL help. MAGICAL help." The prince gasped, then looked very interested.

"MAGICAL help, my little piece of kelp?" He grinned happily. "Hey... I made a rhyme!"

"BACK to the subject, my darling cuddly teddy bear," Cinderella said. "Yes, magical help. I know just where I can get some."

"Tell me, love. What do you have in mind?"

I crossed my fingers, hoping Cinderella wouldn't say "my fairy godmother". The prince, I was sure, would react none too kindly to my messing in his affairs, and, though I was sure it wouldn't be hard to psychologically convince him that it was really his idea, it would take up time and energy I didn't have to waste.

"Oh," said Cinderella. "I have some..." She looked at him coyly. "Contacts."

"What do contacts have to do with magical help? Are your eyes naturally blue, even, or is it contacts that are making them that way? And I thought you had perfect vision!" He looked offended.

"Not THAT kind of contacts, my little maniacal munchkin," she said with an irritated air. "I KNOW people. I've got STRINGS to pull. Do you understand, honey-woney?"

"Oh. Of course I do, my little sugar-wugar!" They did the Eskimo kiss thing again, then settled into a pet-name-filled discussion of which flowers to include in her bouquet.

A/N: Okay, it's been a while. So you've GOT to review, just to let me know that someone out there is reading this! Pretty please? Grazie!


	25. Update and Goodbye

All right, guys... I haven't updated this in... wow, it's been over a year. I've abandoned it, I'm afraid, in favor of a similar, but much longer, more detailed novel which is going to be submitted to publishers soon! If anything comes of it, I'll let you all know. Until then, this is just an update in case anyone remembers this, and I'll be removing the story soon. Thanks to everyone who's read and given feedback!


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